


Souls Like the Wheels

by euphoria23



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alpha Evan, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Knotting, M/M, Omega Connor, Recreational Drug Use, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-11-19
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:47:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoria23/pseuds/euphoria23
Summary: Connor Murphy must be the only kid left in his year who has yet to figure out his nature, and it’s not doing his already shitty reputation any good. Even his little sister Zoe has come into her nature as an alpha, which ought to make Larry proud, since that’s all he ever really wanted for either of them. Now he’s just left biding his time until his own alpha instincts kick in…Evan Hansen has no scent. It isn’t surprising, since he’s never really had a proper family, or friends, or anything else for that matter. With crippling social anxiety and a fear of almost everything beyond (and including) his own shadow, Evan can’t boast the charisma and bravado he sees in the alphas who walk the high school halls like they own the place. Still, he can’t shake the feeling that something’s still yet to come, and that it’s going to be big…Or: The one where Evan’s an alpha and Connor’s an omega and neither of them are happy about it.





	1. The one where Connor Punches an Alpha in the Nose

He was cutting round the corner on his way to class when he found himself being suddenly knocked to the ground by some shithead’s burly arm.

“In a rush, freak?” The person attached to the offending arm laughed as he stood above Connor. It was a disgusting sound, as though he were coughing up a hairball as he cackled.

The image made Connor chuckle to himself and the boy’s laughter ceased, face quickly turning sour. Just as Connor had begun to get comfortable on the linoleum tile he found himself being hoisted into the air, the boy’s hand holding him up by the neckline of his shirt.

“What do you think you’re laughing at, creep? You wanna start something? Huh?” Up close, Connor had nowhere else to look besides directly at the boy’s face. He was big and meaty, lips like puckered up sausages curled into a smarmy smirk, and an air of blind confidence that was absolutely, unmistakably _alpha_.

Connor knew he should be intimidated by him, but he couldn’t find the fucks to give. Sure, this dude trumped him in nearly all physical aspects; his gangly limbs couldn’t hope to deliver the blow befitting of such an entitled dickwad. He knew that. And the alpha certainly knew that. But he couldn’t give him the satisfaction of _knowing_ that he knew that.

So instead he played a different tactic: stoic silence. He’d worked it into an artform over years of Cynthia asking him how his day was over the dinner table in fumbling, failed attempts to ‘connect’. By the looks of the vein practically bursting out of the alpha’s head it seemed to be getting under his skin quite nicely.

“So what? You’ve got nothing to say for yourself?!” The boy leaned closer until they were practically nose to nose, yanking Connor’s collar so that he winced in pain, showing just enough emotion that the boy knew he’d gotten his attention. His breath was thick on Connor’s face, rancid, and he could smell the dominating pheromones practically pouring out of him.

“Everyone knows you’re just an indy freak who has nothing to offer.” Indy, a vulgar way of saying that someone was an indeterminate, or didn’t express any nature. For most indeterminates of his age it would have ruffled feathers, but not Connor. He heard it all the time at home. Why should school be any different?

“And what’s it to you?” Connor asked, sounding as calm and cool as he could possibly manage from his precarious position. “Where’s your vested interest in my lack of a nature coming from? I hate to break it to you, but I don’t really think you’re my type regardless.”

The alpha let out another barking laugh, his grip tightening. “Fucking hilarious. _You_? I wouldn’t fuck you if my life depended on it, Murphy. Even if you were an omega, on the ground, fucking _begging_ for my knot. I can just see you rolling around, sobbing for it like the weak, sick little shit you are—”

 _Crack!_ Before he could even think about it, Connor’s fist connected with the alpha’s nose. The boy yowled, dropping Connor to the ground as he clutched his nose in pain. If Connor had to guess, from the way the noise resounded, he’d almost certainly broken something.

“The flying fuck was that for, Murphy?!” The boy asked, blood beginning to drip down from where Connor had nailed him. Connor was also surprised at himself, but only briefly. He’d been down this road before, as his temper often got him into trouble. Ever since the Printer Incident in second grade (and really, Miss G had it coming, what with all her line-leading favoritism) he’d been known for being explosive, a loose cannon, ‘Most Likely to Shoot Up the School’.

And it was true, honestly. He’d never really managed to get a hold on his anger. He hadn’t really tried. But whether that was because couldn’t, or because he wore the Printer Incident like a neon sign over his head since then and no one gave him the room to take it off, he wasn’t sure. He supposed it didn’t really matter.

Still clutching his nose for dear life, the alpha finally opened his eyes, his gaze boring into Connor’s with murderous intent. Counting his losses, Connor took this as his cue to go. He picked himself up off the ground and bolted down the hall.

“You better run, you indy shit! Next time I see you you’re gonna end up with a lot more than a broken nose!” The boy yelled, the door closing on his last words as Connor left the school behind him.

***

 _That’s what happens when you try to go to class,_ Connor thought to himself morosely as he rolled a joint. It was the beginning of senior year and he’d already missed several days of school. Cynthia was disappointed in him, and Larry even more so, but it didn’t phase him as much as it used to.

The teachers and other students didn’t want him there any more than he wanted to be there. They gave him nothing but snide remarks whenever he did come to class, sarcastic and surprised that he even showed up. He’d sometimes hear the whispered rumors floating around amongst the other students: that he was part of a crazy hard drug ring, that he was helping run some underground omega slave trade since his lack of a nature made him more covert, that he was planning on shooting up the school and if you looked at him funny you might be his first victim.

Occasionally he’d end up in fights like the one with the alpha today, but mostly the people just ignored him. No one wanted to be friends with the indy loser who threw a printer at a teacher.

He didn’t know why he tried then, some days. Maybe it was the look in Cynthia’s eyes at breakfast, forlorn and pleading. Maybe he didn’t want to be bested again by his sister Zoe, who was a fucking straight A student (except for one A- in calculus, but that was just because the teacher was sexist and had a problem with female alphas, she’d always remind them) and would never even consider skipping. Maybe there was some glimmer of hope in there, deep down, that told him one day might just be okay.

Not great, he wasn’t delusional, but just okay. He’d settle for that.

“Not fucking likely,” he said to the empty apple orchard as he lit up and took his first hit. No, the only way things would be okay is if he finally presented as an alpha. Then he’d _be_ something. He wouldn’t fit in with the jocks, he knew, but at least then they wouldn’t be able to throw him around.

And maybe Larry wouldn’t give him so much shit just for existing. He knew he was a disappointment to his classically alpha father, who grew up playing baseball and chasing girls and being everything that Connor wasn’t. He was constantly reminded that he was the indy son whose little sister presented as alpha _before_ him, so low on the social hierarchy that he wasn’t fit for even an omega to spit upon.

He breathed out slowly as he felt the weed start to hit him. He’d been coming to this orchard, one where his family used to go on picnics when it was still up and running, to cool off and smoke since the day he got his license. It had become a place of solace, a sort of sacred space, where he wouldn’t bother the world and the world couldn’t bother him. Smoking was the only way he knew to calm down, so he ended up high more days than not. It somehow made the shitscape that was his life a bit duller, and therefore more bearable. He couldn’t feel it so much when he got into screaming matches with Larry, or when the alphas at school jeered at him.

If they wanted him to come to class, then they should really put his classes outside in the orchard. Seriously. It was as though sitting there in cool air and the quiet was the only place where he wasn’t subject to their rules, their shitty system. With each hit he sloughed off a layer of his pitiful excuse of a life. Goodbye indy, goodbye shooter, goodbye disappointment…until at last he was left with only himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I've been lurking about the DEH Ao3 feed for some time, and never did I think I'd post something here. But considering how big the soulmate trope has gotten in this fandom, I am surprised at the lack of Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics fics, especially long form. And this plot idea just kept eating at me, and...well, here we are. The slow burn, long form Alpha!Evan Omega!Connor fic you didn't know you'd been waiting for.
> 
> I'm really excited about this fic, as it's my first time writing for Ao3 and my first time writing one of my favorite tropes. Any advice and/or feedback, especially on characterization, is appreciated; I really want to do our boys justice! If you've never read this trope before, I recommend looking up the Alpha/Omega Primer, as it will give you a general understanding of what's up (though it should also hopefully become apparent in universe as the story progresses!). It's a lot like soulmates, except with some more animalistic elements, and lots of opportunity for world-building, so I think you'll like it. This first chapter is Connor centric, but the next will delve more into Evan, and then *drumroll*...the two will meet.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you think and if you want to see more!


	2. The one where Evan has an Existential Crisis Because of a Soap Opera

Evan Hansen had no scent, no nature to speak of, and he supposed that was rather fitting.

His mother, Heidi, was a beta working as a nurse to get the both of them by in the wake of his father leaving. Which one might think had happened recently for all the impact it continued to have but no, it had been thirteen years at this point and seriously, that was a pretty long time for something like this to last, and wasn’t it time for them to move forward?

But they couldn’t move forward. His alpha dad had been most of the family income and nursing didn’t pay awfully well, since it was generally considered an omega field. So Evan spent most of his days when he wasn’t at school sitting on the couch watching old soap operas, as they couldn’t afford cable, and eating frozen pizza dinners his mom left for him in the fridge because he was too darn anxious to go to the grocery store. Because if he did, he’d have to interact with the cashiers and he might bump into people, and what if they were people he _knew_ and he’d have to say hi and that would be no good, no good at all.

Evan took a deep breath, fidgeting with the blue silly putty in his hand. His mom had bought for him to use when he got anxious, and it usually did the trick. It was cool and smooth, comforting in the way it gave way to his pushings and proddings. The pizza on his plate was getting cold but he couldn’t bring himself to care. Frozen pizzas, warm or cold, all tasted pretty much the same after having them several nights in a row.

“Orlando I…I want…” The pleading voice caught Evan’s attention as he refocused on the show he’d been watching. (Okay, not really ‘watching’, more like letting run in the background while he swam through a sea of mental scenarios that might occur were he to actually get up the gumption to go to the grocery store). On screen was a beautiful omega woman, dressed in old, almost puritanical clothing that was considered traditional for unbonded omegas, though Evan hadn’t heard of anyone actually wearing it in the last fifty years. She stared pleadingly at a young, devilishly handsome alpha man who watched her with a look that could only be described as reverent.

“Shhh,” the alpha said, pressing a long thin finger to her lips. “I know what you want, my darling. I want it too. Oh so very much.”

“But Orlando! My father doesn’t approve, he’ll never—”

“Then I will prove myself to him. I will best him, show him my worth, that I am deserving of his most beloved treasure.” _Most beloved treasure, psssh,_ the more cynical part of Evan thought, but he kept watching anyway.

“Oh, Orlando! I will do all I can to be worthy of you!”

“My dear, when we are bonded there shall be no bond as strong as ours. We will rule these lands together through our love!” And the music in the background began to swell as the two embraced in a passionate kiss seemingly filled with not just want, but _need_.

Evan wanted to be needed like that.

Well, maybe not _exactly_ like that. Kissing seemed a bit germy, and he didn’t quite understand the appeal of having someone else’s tongue in his mouth. But he wanted to be looked at like the omega woman was by the man. Reverently. As though she were the only thing that mattered in his world.

No one had ever looked at Evan as though he were the only thing that mattered. No one had ever looked at Evan as though he mattered at all.

He shut the TV off, and reached for a piece of the abandoned pizza with his good arm, the other rendered useless by a big white cast. His own fault for falling out of a tall tree on the job. Of course that was just like him, always fucking up the good stuff, always disappointing people. Like his mom who had to drive him to the hospital, and he could vividly recall the crease in her forehead and the frown on her face when he’d told her that he’d laid there all alone for at least ten minutes—

He put down the half-eaten slice, opting instead to pick up his silly putty and squeeze it tighter.

Maybe things would be different if he were like that omega. Would he woo his suitors, who would fall left and right to please him if he so much as batted an eye? Would they go out of their way to be there for him, to support him, and maybe help squander some of his fretful anxieties? If he closed his eyes, he could almost picture the way something so simple as a hand on his shoulder, the soft touch of an alpha, or a friend, or _anyone_ would be able to make his worries melt away…

But he couldn’t pin his hopes on that. He’d been scentless for his whole life, and what was normal as a little kid had become an anomaly in his high school years. He might have assumed he was a beta, just like his mom, but even betas had scents and Evan was just a big bunch of nothingness, unreadable and undetectable and absolutely invisible. And it didn’t look like it’d be changing any time soon.

Everyone he knew had already come into their own nature, and had started attending specific health and sex ed classes to learn about that new aspect of themselves. It only served to make Evan feel more left out as he went by himself to study in the library during that time, none of the information being applicable to him. Even Jared, who had only come forth as an alpha last year, was already well adjusted to life with his second sex. Sure he wasn’t fending off lovesick omegas left and right, but he’d apparently gotten it on with an omega girl at summer camp and got to feel her up and, well, that seemed to be enough for Jared.

And then there was Zoe Murphy. Oh god, Zoe. The one bright spot in Evan’s blank sheet of an existence. She had just come into her own alpha nature this past year, which was right on schedule with her being a grade below Evan. But she didn’t become cocky and self-important like so many seemed to. If anything, her newfound confidence made her even more radiant, her bright colored clothes and indigo streaked hair standing out even in a crowded school hallway (or maybe they weren’t standing out so much as Evan always _sought_ them out, but regardless).

Of course, Evan had never actually had a conversation with Zoe Murphy outside of his own mind (he’d had maybe a thousand of them inside, most of which ended with her figuring out he was a total loser like he assumed she would). He’d never even so much as said hello to her when he saw her in the hall.

But there was this one day when two alphas came up behind him and shoved him so that he dropped all his books on the ground. And, as he was scrambling to pick everything up so he wouldn’t be late for class, he felt a hand brush against his. It was small with periwinkle nail polish and he looked up to find that it was _Zoe Murphy’s hand_. And he stared at her gobsmacked, probably looking like a total idiot, but she just laughed and her laugh sounded like bells as she helped him pick up the rest of his things and didn’t look at him like he was a freak or anything. And then when he tried to thank her but no words came out she smiled like she knew, like she knew _him_ , before she walked away and disappeared once more into the hallway throng.

Evan looked back on that moment more often than he cared to admit, because it made him wonder. Would there ever come a day where he could be tolerated, liked, or even loved by someone like Zoe Murphy? Perhaps if he presented as an omega, he could even bond with her, and then she could give him that look like she understood him each day, and he could help her paint her nails that beautiful periwinkle color and then maybe, maybe the rest of the world wouldn’t look at him like he was nothing.

Evan took another bite of pizza and switched the TV back on. Better to lose himself in whatever was on the screen than get any more caught up in the fiction he wrote in his own head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to update again for another couple of days, but the initial reception to this story was so positive and the comments so encouraging that I wrote tons more than I intended. So you get Evan's first chapter! Evan's mostly trapped in his own head here since he's alone (unfortunately a common occurrence, poor thing), but you'll get to see him more in action in later chapters.
> 
> Thanks again for the all amazing feedback; it's seriously great to know that other people are as excited about this as I am. Please continue to leave comments if you're enjoying it or have any feedback for me. It's highly motivating, and I want to give you all the best story I can muster!
> 
> Also if there are any particular headcanons about this verse you're curious about let me know; trying to reveal key things gradually through the story itself but there are probably some things that aren't going to come up as obviously. In case anyone was curious, Cynthia is an omega and Alana is a beta. I think those are the only two natures I haven't explicitly mentioned as of yet.


	3. The one where there's a Meaningful Conversation

Connor didn’t know why he decided to go in for class again the next day.

Maybe it was this part of him that was almost itching to run into that alpha again, so he could really show him what happens when you try and fuck around with Connor Murphy. Or maybe he was looking for someone to call him out for showing up. _Coming to school two days in a row? Who is this guy and what has he done with Connor…?_

“Hey Connor, love the long hair! Very school shooter chic.” Or maybe he’s a total fucking idiot and shouldn’t have bothered at all.

“What do you want, Kleinman?” He spat as he locked eyes with Jared Kleinman, who was leaning fake casually on a locker right down the hall. He’d seen him doing a lot more of that, _leaning_ on things, ever since he found out he was an alpha. Probably thought it was seductive or some shit.

Too bad that everything else about Jared Kleinman’s personality was insanely unattractive. The guy was a living, breathing meme, practically set to be the type of creepy dude who lives with his mom and spends his days hacking and watching omega porn in the basement. He was barely scraping by in the high school social scene, landing only a few rungs above Connor due to his alpha status, and he knew this because Kleinman would never let him forget it.

“Just admiring what’s in front of me, is all. Can’t take a compliment?” Kleinman laughed at him and Connor had to grit his teeth to keep himself from wailing on the guy. “I’m trying to memorize the way your face looks so that I’ll be the first to recognize it on the security footage of you shooting up the school.” Okay now he was _really_ asking for it.

“I don’t think you want to go down that road.” Connor warned, balling his fists and willing himself to just keep calm, goddamnit. No use getting all riled up because of that piece of shit…

Kleinman quirked an eyebrow, curious. “Oh really now? Well maybe I do. Someone’s gotta call you out for acting so weird all the time, you indy freak.” He stepped away from the locker and into Connor’s space, seemingly observing him, purposefully testing limits. “Maybe all that unresolved sexual frustration’s been getting to you, huh? Don’t know where to direct your energy, so you lash out at people, is that what you’re about?”

Connor was seconds away from pummeling the kid when the sound of another, softer voice stopped him.

“Jared, that’s n-not very nice.” The voice was small, but it got Connor’s attention, as both he and Kleinman turned to face a third boy who Connor could have sworn had just appeared, but was acting as though he’d been there the whole time. “You’re not his t-therapist or anything so maybe you shouldn’t a-act like it?”

Connor let his fists loosen and let out a breath he hadn’t known he’d been holding. So yeah, the other boy’s criticism of Kleinman wasn’t exactly providing the verbal beating Connor had had in mind (he’d ended it like a _question_ , for goodness’ sake, hardly forceful). But still, it was more than anyone else had ever done in the way of standing up for him.

Connor looked at the other boy in a way that he hoped still held some of his initial malice (he didn’t want Kleinman thinking he’d gone soft all of a sudden, just because someone stood up for him). He was a lot shorter than Connor, and thin, albeit not quite as thin as Connor was. His left arm was all bound up in a thick white cast, and the kid didn’t look like he played any sports so Connor couldn’t imagine what had happened to him. He had a round baby face and a somewhat uptight looking blue polo that just _screamed_ socially awkward, and his eyes…held more fear than Connor had anticipated. He scoffed, looking away from him. _Wouldn’t want to scare him totally out of his wits, me being the predestined school shooter and all._

“Oh shut it, Evan.” Kleinman said, and then it clicked for Connor. _Evan Hansen_. He knew he’d seen him somewhere before. The kid sat near him in English, doodled trees all over his papers. He didn’t say much in class, didn’t say much period, so Connor hadn’t really paid him much mind. Until now, that is. “Can’t you see Connor Murphy and I are having a friendly, genial interaction here?”

“Oh, r-really? It doesn’t look like you’re b-being friendly…” Hansen trailed off skeptically. As though he were attempting to prove just how friendly they were, Kleinman slung an arm across Connor’s shoulder and tried to lean on him. Connor immediately pushed him away.

“Don’t you dare fucking touch me.” He growled, finally causing Jared to back off, holding up ‘surrender’ hands as he returned to his spot by the lockers.

“And you,” Connor said, directing his attention once again towards Hansen, who looked so shocked to have attention called to him that it was like he forgot to be scared. “You think it’s funny, standing up for the indy freak?”

“N-no! I mean, no, I just thought—”

“You in on some weird inside joke with Kleinman?” Connor kept going, increasingly skeptical of what this kid could possibly want to do with him besides make fun of him. “Think it’d be funny to act all nice and shit just to turn around and laugh about it later?”

“Not at all! J-jared and I aren’t even close, we’re j-just family friends!” Hansen’s face turned red, as though admitting that was akin to sharing an embarrassing secret, as though being family friends with Jared Kleinman was like sometimes wetting the bed.

Jared rolled his eyes, conceding. “My mom won’t pay for my car insurance unless I hang out with Evan every now and again. You know how it is. Dragging around ol’ scentless here isn’t all fun and games, he’s a lot more social baggage than he’s worth. But then again,” Jared’s smile widened into a full-on shit eating grin. “you’d know all about that, wouldn’t you, indy?”

Connor was about to bite back with some choice words, but Hansen beat him to it. “Wait…you too? You don’t have a nature yet, either?” he asked. He sounded so fucking hopeful, it was nauseating.

“No, as a matter of fact I don’t.” Connor said sharply, and clearly that hadn’t been the type of response Evan was looking for because his round face fell. “What’s it to you?”

“I-I’m the same! I mean, I’m not a beta, or anything. I’m an, uh, indy? Yeah. That’s me.” He gave a small smile and Connor’s stomach sank. _No_. The last thing he needed was to be associated with _another_ indeterminate, especially one as awkward as Hansen. He hadn’t even known there was anyone else like him, but you definitely didn’t rise above the bottom of the social food chain by making friends down there. It was like a social death knell, a nail in his already lowering coffin.

Instinctively he took a step back, distancing himself, and tried to mask his surprise at Hansen’s revelation with the coldest sneer he could manage. “Well, Hansen, that is your name right?” The boy nodded fervently.

“Hansen, from one worthless indy to another, if you’d be so kind as to _stay out of my fucking way_ from here on out, I’d appreciate it. Because god knows that I’m not letting you make even more of a freak out of me than I already am.”

Hansen looked as though someone had broken him. “B-but I never said you were a freak…”

“And you know what? You’re right.” Connor cut him off, glaring daggers. It took everything in him to crush the bit of empathy he felt for the poor kid. He was making a point, and it had to land. “I’m not a freak. So don’t look at me all scared like I just murdered your grandmother or some shit, because you know what Hansen? _You’re_ the fucking freak.”

Hansen stepped forward, as though about to defend himself, and Connor instinctually shoved him back down, knocking him to the ground. And before he could register the deep-seated hurt in the boy’s blue eyes, he turned tail and left.

But still the realization hit him hard, whether he wanted it to or not. When he’d pushed him, gotten right up close and pushed him down, it became undoubtedly clear.

Evan Hansen smelled like nothing. Evan Hansen was just like him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so, they meet! Jared is really fun to write as well, so even though he isn't a central focus of this story, I intend to keep having him pop up every now and again.
> 
> You all have been so incredibly encouraging so far, and I'm very grateful! So if you like what you see/have any feedback, please do leave a comment; it completely makes my day.
> 
> ALSO, in case you didn't see the note in the summary, I did change the title of this story from "Opposites Attract" (which is basically ubiquitous on ao3) to "Souls Like the Wheels". Figure it's early enough in the game that this was alright, and I wanted to give the story a title that was more personal and hopefully more fitting. Souls Like the Wheels is named after one of my favorite Avett Brothers songs, the lyrics of which resonate a lot with both of these characters in my mind. So if you're curious and want to take a listen here's a live version: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CiIdIswzTYA


	4. The one with the Note in the Computer Lab

It had been a few days since the fiasco by the lockers and Evan still found himself checking over his shoulder every now and again just to make sure Connor Murphy wasn’t secretly there, waiting to shove him down.

He didn’t know if he was more afraid or excited by the thought of finding him there. On the one hand, Connor had been none too kind to him during that first encounter, and his mom always said that first impressions said a lot about someone’s character. Granted, Jared hadn’t been nice to the taller boy, so it was no wonder he got all angry…Although Evan didn’t quite understand why so much of that anger had ended up directed at him. After all, he had tried to defend him from Jared’s verbal accost.

On the other hand, the thought of having found someone who was like him was thrilling to Evan. Finally, someone who understood what he was going through, who also felt out of the loop of discovering one’s nature. Perhaps someone like that could talk with him about these things in a way that he just couldn’t talk about them with Jared or his mom. Perhaps then he wouldn’t feel so alone.

He sat down at the computer farthest away from the door in the computer lab (couldn’t have anyone coming through the door unannounced and sneaking up behind him and reading his screen and laughing at him) and opened up the file he’d been working on that morning. His mom had made him start going to a therapist, Dr. Sherman, specifically trained to work with kids who were struggling with nature related issues.

Unfortunately Dr. Sherman didn’t really seem to know what to do with Evan, since he was so old for an indeterminate and so anxious that he couldn’t really open up to her, and so their in-person sessions consisted mostly of her asking him probing questions and him fumbling over his words in attempts to give answers that were never quite as coherent as he thought they were. So after weeks of fruitless back and forth, she finally assigned him a writing prompt to, ‘get the ball rolling’. Each day he was supposed to write a letter to himself saying that “today’s going to be a great day and here’s why…!”, then print it and bring it into their session.

He hadn’t been doing them daily, he could sometimes hardly muster the energy to brush his teeth in the morning let alone write a whole letter to himself, but he tried to write one at least once a week so as to keep Dr. Sherman and his mom happy. And this week, well, it wasn’t hard to decide what to write about.

_Dear Evan Hansen,_

_Turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all. This isn’t going to be an amazing week or an amazing year because why would it be? I'm still scentless, still invisible…I know, I know, because there’s Zoe, and all my hope is pinned on Zoe who I don’t even know and who doesn’t know me. But maybe, maybe, I could just talk to her then maybe, maybe we could be just like they are in the soap operas on TV._

_I wish everything was different. I wish I was a part of something, that I knew who I was. I wish that anything I said mattered. To anyone. I mean, face it, would anyone even notice if I just disappeared tomorrow?_

_Sincerely,_  
_Your best and most dearest friend,_  
_Me_

Evan sighed to himself as he pressed print. He really wished he hadn’t mentally put all his eggs into one Zoe Murphy shaped basket, and yet there it was, the truth in plain ink. When he looked at his words on paper like this it felt incredibly lame and not romantic in the least that he had all his hopes pinned on a girl who’d never really even talked to him. Not to mention that her older brother had decided to socially spurn him even though they were going through the same exact thing. Man, he was not having luck with the Murphy siblings, was he?

A sudden turning of the door handle startled Evan, causing him to jump in his seat as someone else entered the lab. His eyes widened when he saw that it was Connor, who looked equally surprised and annoyed to see him sitting there.

“H-hey Connor…” he stuttered, cursing himself for his weakness. If he wanted to connect with Connor Murphy, or at least talk with him, he’d have to sound like someone worth talking to, not some stuttering wimp.

However, to his surprise, Connor didn’t turn tail. “Hansen.” he responded with a nod. Evan imagined he had come into the computer lab to take care of something, why else would you come into a computer lab, but he wasn’t making moves to do anything. Instead he just levelled his cool gaze at Evan, as though waiting for him to say something else.

_Come on Evan, think of something! Don’t make him stand there awkwardly. Because then he’ll see that you’re uncomfortable and he’ll get uncomfortable and it’ll remind him of why he thought you were a freak in the first place and—_

“So, what happened to your arm?” Connor asked, cutting through Evan’s train of thought and asking about his arm as though it were nothing. As though it were normal for the two of them to be talking. Almost like people who…talked to each other. Air rushed back into Evan’s lungs as he sighed with relief.

“I, uh, f-fell out of a tree actually.” he explained, cringing a bit at how silly it sounded. Apparently that fact wasn’t lost on Connor either.

“You fell out of a tree?” He asked, and whether it was in mockery or astonishment Evan couldn’t tell, so he simply nodded.

“That’s the saddest fucking thing I’ve ever heard, oh my god.” Connor said, but his voice wasn’t laced with malice or anger like it had been in the hallway. It seemed like he genuinely found Evan’s predicament to be funny, like he was laughing with him. The thought of someone laughing with him instead of at him made Evan’s stomach do a sort of excited flip.

A pause. Then, “No one’s signed your cast.” Well, he didn’t have to put it like _that_.

“Uh yeah, I know.” Evan winced at the implications of the observation. He thought back to when his mom had suggested he have people sign it in hopes of him maybe, just maybe, garnering a few friends. But even Jared had laughed at him when he got up the courage to suggest it.

“Well, I’ll sign it.” Connor said as though it were final and no one should dare question it. Evan’s stomach flipped again, basking in the unfamiliar glow of someone seeming to care about him even just momentarily.

Getting so excited because finally someone besides your mom notices you, thinks you matter? Now _that_ was the saddest thing Evan had ever heard. “Oh, uh, y-you don’t have to.”

But Connor seemed determined. “Do you have a sharpie?”

Evan did have a sharpie. He fished around into his pocket until he found it, handing it to Connor at arm’s length.

Connor took it and then, with not even a bit of care, grabbed Evan’s bad arm. Evan recoiled in pain at the jerking movement, but Connor only passively seemed to notice as he took to writing his name across the entirety of the cast in big, capitalized scrawl.

“Oh, great, thanks.” It wasn’t as though Evan had expected anyone else to be signing his cast, but he’d wanted to at least pretend that it might happen. Instead he’d be walking around looking almost… _marked_ by Connor Murphy. Connor’s name written in stark black against the bright white of his cast looked like a label, looked like ownership.

“Yeah, well, now we can both pretend that we have friends.” Connor said matter-of-factly, as though that settled whatever there was to settle. Evan looked at him with widened eyes. Friends, even pretend, were never something he thought he’d be able to say he had this year. Especially not a friend like Connor, a friend who was just like him.

Catching himself, Evan turned his gaze to the floor. He didn’t want to seem too excited at the prospect. “Good, uh, good point.” He turned to walk out of the room, when Connor stopped him again.

“Is this yours?” Connor asked, waving in the letter Evan had written to himself. “I, uh, found it on the printer. ‘Dear Evan Hansen’, that’s your name right?”

Evan panicked. “Oh yeah no, no no it’s just this s-stupid—it’s just this p-paper that I have to write it’s for, uh, a-an assignment and—” he tried to grab the paper back, but Connor had more than a few inches on him and snatched it away easily. He looked at it in his hands like he was, oh my god he was starting to _read it_ —

“…Because there’s Zoe?” He asked and no. Nonono that was _not_ how this was supposed to work! Evan and Connor had only just become pretend friends. He couldn’t lose that in a matter of seconds!

Connor looked up from the letter and directly at him. The anger was back. “Uh, is this about my sister?”

“N-no not at all—” Evan tried to explain himself but Connor wasn’t having it.

“You wrote this because you knew that I would find it.” Connor said, sounding certain as someone could and Evan just wanted to scream. _No! Why would I do that? I had no idea you’d be here!_

“Yeah, you saw that I was the only other person in the computer lab, so you wrote this and you printed it out so I would find it.” Evan could see that Connor’s hands were shaking now, like he was about to erupt.

“W-why, why would I do that?”

“So I could read some creepy shit you wrote about my sister and freak out, right? And then you could tell everybody that _I’m_ crazy!”

“No!” Evan shouted and, without thinking, grabbed Connor’s arm as the other was about to storm away. Connor tried to shake him—“get the fuck off of me Hansen!”—but Evan’s hand was locked in a vice grip around the other boy’s forearm.

“I didn’t write the letter for you to find.” Evan said, and he was surprised at the evenness and conviction he heard in his own voice. He wasn’t even stuttering. “I wrote it for myself.”

Connor was looking at him as though he’d grown a third eye, but at least he’d seemed to start calming down. “You expect me to believe that you wrote a letter to yourself.” He levelled Evan with a challenging look.

Evan nodded, “Uh huh. My therapist…Dr. Sherman, she wants me to write one before each of our sessions.”

This seemed to, for some reason, take Connor down from the level of infuriation he’d been at before, but the mention of therapy had him looking a whole different brand of annoyed. “Okay, sure, weird therapy letter, got it. So what does my sister have to do with any of that shit?”

Taking in a deep breath, Evan let go of Connor’s arm. He wasn’t used to being asked questions like this; not even his mom would ask him about girls, she only ever mentioned Jared and he figured that’s because Jared was the only person she thought he knew (and she wasn’t entirely wrong). He’d never talked about Zoe before.

“She…uh, helped me out. Once.” He tried to explain, but Connor still looked at him vacantly. “Some alphas, they knocked me down, and Z-Zoe helped me pick up my books.” Evan didn’t have to mention the part about her periwinkle nails or her radiant smile. He figured, based on the strength of Connor’s initial reaction to the letter, that it was best to leave those details out.

“The alphas…they throw you around, too?” Connor asked, and this time he seemed genuinely curious.

“Y-yeah. Sometimes.” Evan said, hand moving to awkwardly rub the back of his neck. “D-do they do it to you?”

Connor looked at him for a long time before speaking. “Sometimes. But I didn’t have a Zoe picking me back up again.”

“W-well your sister’s not like the pack of them! She’s nice, and smart, and kind.” _And beautiful_ , Evan thought, but once again decided to leave that part out.

Connor scoffed at that, but at least he wasn’t trying to run away anymore. “You think so, but she’s just like the rest of them. Self-important little shit. Never gave me the time of day before she presented, and hasn’t given it to me since.”

Evan couldn’t help himself defending her. “B-but that’s not true! I know she’s your sister and all, but have you ever tried talking to her?”

“Have you?” Connor bit back. And Evan was struck with the harsh truth that no, he hadn’t. He’d never talked with Zoe Murphy. So how on Earth could he claim to know her? Especially better than her own brother?

Connor looked him up and down and scoffed, plopping down into one of the room’s many swivel chairs. His hand was still clutching Evan’s letter, albeit less tightly than before. “I thought not. All alphas are the same.”

Evan took a seat in the chair next to him, considering. “I…don’t think that’s true.”

Connor shot him a pointed look again before shaking his head. “No, it’s true. It’s in their nature to be self-righteous pieces of shit.” Suddenly, he looked determined. “But not me.”

“Huh?” Evan asked, thrown off by the sudden shift. “But didn’t you say you were indeterminate too? I couldn’t smell you.”

“I’m indeterminate _now_.” Connor corrected. “But when I present as alpha, I’m not going to be like the others. I’m not gonna push little people around just because I can. I’ll remember the things they did and said to me as an indy and I’ll make sure to never act like that to anyone. Except for the alpha creeps who fucking deserve it.”

Evan was taken aback at how… _brave_ Connor sounded. How assured. Like he knew he’d right the wrong, when the time came. That was the only part Evan found himself sticking on: the fact that he said _when_ , not _if_.

“But, how do you know you’ll present as alpha?” Evan asked hesitantly. _What if you don’t?_

“You fucking serious, Hansen? Look at me.” And Evan did look at him. He wasn’t as broad as most of the alphas Evan had met, but he was tall and wiry. His features weren’t meaty, but they were defined, his jaw so sharp it could cut glass. His hair was long, a sign of good health (or haircare negligence, but Evan wasn’t one to judge), and his fiery temper practically screamed alpha. “I may be late, but I’m not broken. I’ll present as alpha soon enough and then everything will work out.”

“And until then…?” Evan asked nervously. He didn’t want to be too much of a pessimist, he was enjoying Connor’s vision of the future just as well, but he also didn’t want to fuel a fire that could just as easily end up burning out.

“Until then, you and I are basically fucked.” Connor laughed, and before Evan couldn’t have imagined Connor Murphy laughing if he’d tried. He found he liked the sound; it was light, a lot like his little sister’s.

A silence fell over the two of them as the laughter faded, but it wasn’t awkward. Despite their objectively horrible first interaction, Evan found that he quite liked being with this Connor. He’d never met someone so different from himself, and yet they had their lack of a nature in common.

“Hansen.” Connor said, breaking the silence as Evan looked up to find bright blue eyes staring into his own. “When I said we could pretend to be friends…”

“Oh it’s fine, don’t worry, we don’t have to do that—” Evan backpedaled. Because of course Connor Murphy wouldn’t want to be his friend just because they’d had one civil chat, that had been _seconds_ away from becoming a blowout argument thank you. How on Earth had he begun to delude himself, he was so stupid—

“I meant it.” Connor said, once again causing Evan’s train of thought to screech to a halt. “That we can pretend to be friends, or whatever. I figure if I’m already so far down on the totem poll there isn’t really much use trying to keep from going lower.” Evan’s eyes lit up. Did that mean…?

“So what do you say?” Connor extended a hand. Evan hadn’t noticed before, but his nails were painted just like Zoe’s, only Connor’s were black and chipped.

Evan took Connor’s hand in his and a little tingle ran up his arm at the contact, whether it was of excitement or nervousness he couldn’t be sure. He gave his hand a quick shake before hastily removing himself, and the deal was sealed. “S-sounds good.”

Connor nodded affirmative and Evan couldn’t help but feel like he’d signed some sort of contract. “Solid. Never had a pretend friend before.”

“Me neither.” Evan confessed, though he figured that should hardly come as a surprise. He wrung his polo shirt uncomfortably, unsure of how to proceed.

“So…lunch tomorrow? Wanna meet out back in the forest clearing behind the school?” _Woods!_ Evan had never eaten lunch in the forest before, he didn’t think it was allowed. He nodded hastily. Connor spotted the phone jutting out of Evan’s pocket and grabbed it in one fluid motion, typing something in before handing it back.

“My number’s in there now. Under Connor Murphy. Obviously. Feel free to text me whenever. Okay, not _whenever_ but. You know. When it makes sense.” Evan nodded again, at a loss for words because _someone just_ _willingly put their number into his phone_.

“Right. Well, see you then.” Connor said, getting up and leaving Evan alone once more in the computer lab. Only this time he was shellshocked. In the past several days, he’d gone from not knowing Connor Murphy at all, to being pushed to the ground, to a shouting match over his letter, to…pretend friendship? At least, that did seem to be what Connor wanted. But based on the hot and cold nature of their relationship so far Evan wouldn’t be surprised if Connor came in tomorrow feeling completely different.

Still the thought of having a friend filled him with a sense of excitement alongside the trepidation. Especially a friend who understood what he was going through, in some sense.

Evan couldn’t wait for lunch tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah yes, the prodigal 'Connor and Evan talk in the Computer Lab' chapter that every long-form-based-in-canon fic has to have. So if you recognize a bit of the dialogue in the middle, that's because it is straight up from the show.
> 
> From here out the chapters will tend to be a bit longer. Which is great, but also means they take longer to write! Still getting into a rhythm, but I wanted to make note of that so you'll have more of an idea what to expect.
> 
> Kudos and comments are extremely appreciated as always! I love knowing what you think/feel, especially since this chapter gives more material to work with considering it's the first extensive dialogue between our boys. Thank you so much for reading!


	5. The one with the Boys and the Trees

Connor sat down in a patch of sunlight in the forest clearing and checked his watch. _He should be here by now._

This was the day he was supposed to get lunch with Evan Hansen, his pretend friend. Okay, maybe ‘friend’ wasn’t the right word. Unlikely ally in indeterminate suffering? Kid he beat up once, almost two times before deciding that hey, maybe he seemed like a half decent person and they should actually talk to each other? Something like that.

Anyway, he wasn’t surprised that Hansen hadn’t shown up. The loser was probably standing at the edge of the forest behind the school, wringing that blue polo shirt of his out of nerves. Probably wondering whether Connor was going to hurt him, or worse, once he made his way out to the clearing. Because you don’t willingly go to hang out alone in the woods with the future wanted poster freak.

Connor couldn’t blame him; he didn’t think he’d want to hang out with himself either. Except he didn’t have a choice.

Connor reached into his pocket and pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. Hansen’s note. No matter how hard he’d tried to throw it away, or at least forget about it, he’d been taking it out to read periodically ever since it had fallen into his possession. He was grossly fascinated by the loneliness in the letter Hansen had written; it almost sounded like something Connor might write to himself. _Dear Evan Hansen, turns out this wasn’t an amazing day after all—_

A rustle in the leaves. Connor quickly stashed the crumpled note back into his pocket, just in time to see its author emerge from the pathway. “H-hey Connor. Nice day, isn’t it?” He’d actually shown up.

“Well look who finally decided to arrive. Kept me waiting. You don’t think I _like_ to eat my sandwiches cold, do you?” He quirked a brow in a way he hoped would cue Hansen to the fact he was joking, but the kid still flinched a bit at his comment, looking as though he were at a total loss.

“Come on you idiot, I’m pulling your leg.” He sighed, patting a space next to him on the ground. “Pop a squat, Hansen.”

Hansen took him up on his invitation to sit, albeit tentatively, lowering himself onto the ground next to Connor with care. He looked furtive, like a scared animal, unsure of what to do with himself. Connor surprised himself in that he found it almost endearing rather than annoying.

“So, Evan Hansen, has today been an amazing day?” He asked, and Hansen’s face immediately turned scarlet. Ah, so he realized it was a reference to the letter he’d left behind. Connor was surprised he hadn’t already asked him about it; he figured he may’ve forgotten, but the look on the other’s face said otherwise.

It was amusing. Connor decided he’d keep it until Evan made a point of asking for it back.

“N-no, well, I’m not sure yet.” Evan said as he slowly unzipped his lunch bag, as though he were worried he’d scare the birds in the trees if he unzipped too loudly.

“Oh, and why is that? What’s kept you from getting a good read on things?” Connor asked, surprised again at finding that he genuinely did want to know.

“My mom’s coming home tonight.” Evan elaborated. As though that was supposed to answer everything.

“So…?”

“She’s coming home tonight,” he continued, starting to babble a bit, “and that could be a good thing or a bad thing, you know? Like maybe she’ll make us dinner instead of ordering out and we’ll watch a movie together, that’d be good. Or, o-or maybe she’ll keep on talking to me about scholarship essays for school, a-and then I won’t be able to do anything I actually want to do because I’ll spend the rest of the night worrying about those, since college costs an awful lot these days and we really can’t afford to—”

“Whoa whoa, slow down.” Connor said, instinctively reaching out a hand to touch Hansen’s shoulder in an attempt to ground him. The boy tensed under his grip, as though he were locked and ready to spring. “I have literally no idea what you’re talking about.”

Hansen breathed shallowly, and Connor took his hand away to take a bite of his sandwich, hoping the space might make the other a bit more articulate.

“M-my mom,” he started again, slower this time. “She works late shifts a lot. And early ones. I-I think she’s working something like, what, 50 hours a week now? Which is pretty crazy, considering she used to only work 45 and that doesn’t even include when she’s on call for emergencies and has to—”

“Hansen.” Connor cut him off. Hansen’s eyes snapped up to meet his own, not looking scared anymore so much as he looked surprised. “You’re rambling again.”

“Oh, I was? S-sorry…” He stared down sheepishly at his food.

Connor rolled his eyes and took another bite of his own lunch. It was a cool idea and all, this whole ‘loser indys being pretend friends’ thing. But talking with Hansen was either like pulling teeth or cleaning up word vomit, depending on the sentence.

Still, he tried to be understanding. The other boy had only just begun to trust Connor at all, and he didn’t want to scare off the closest thing he’d had to a friend since. Well. Ever, really.

Wow. Now that was _really_ the saddest fucking thing he’d ever heard.

“It’s okay,” he told him, hoping it sounded sincere. “It’s hard to talk about parents. They’re kind of the worst.”

Connor was caught off guard by the confused look this garnered from Hansen. “The worst? Why do you say that?”

This caused Connor to balk a bit; he hadn’t expected any questions coming his way, especially one as heavy as that. Hansen didn’t know what he was asking. He couldn’t know. And yet, alongside the part of Connor that wanted to blow by this, to shrug and change the subject, another part of him wanted to tell Hansen.

Besides, mutual self-disclosure is the key to forming authentic relationships, yeah? Connor thought an old therapist of his may’ve told him something like that (exactly which therapist he couldn’t say; they all blended together after a while). So, Hansen opened a door for him. Maybe he should just get the fuck over himself and step through it.

Fuck. He was going for it.

“Well, my dad—” he began, but stopped suddenly short. Hansen was watching him patiently, waiting for an explanation. Connor, feeling immensely uncomfortable at the amount of attention being paid to him, brushed a hand through his hair, surprised to find himself shaking a bit. “Larry. My dad. He’s the worst.”

“Why?” Hansen asked, and shit, why did he ask this kid to lunch again? The other boy was too curious for his own good.

“Fuck, I dunno. Lots of reasons? He’s your stereotypical self-entitled alpha asshole. Like the ones here, except with a bigger potbelly and legit authority over my life.”

“What kind of stuff does he do?”

“Well, he once grounded me for two weeks just because he could. That was shit.” Connor remembered that, Larry hadn’t even let him take the car to school, had insisted on driving him so that he wouldn’t go anywhere besides exactly where he ‘needed’ to be. “And ever since he found out I smoke, he’ll just go into my room to raid for my stash. He doesn’t usually find it, so it’s honestly whatever, but it does give him an excuse to sift through all my crap whenever he decides I’ve become complacent.”

“W-wow. That’s really…” Hansen paused, searching for the right word. “Controlling?”

“Ding ding, we have a winner.” Connor said, his tone practically dripping sarcasm. “He’s always on my ass about everything. It hardly feels like I have room to breathe in that house. And it’s not just me. He’s constantly looming over my mom too, doesn’t really let her do anything on her own. Probably ‘cause she’s an omega.”

“But, why just because she’s an omega? He married her, he must love her, right?” Connor didn’t know if he was just imagining it, but he swore he saw Hansen’s expression grow tighter, more somber at the mention of marriage and love.

“Love, power trip, same thing.” Connor shrugged, feigning indifference. “Sure he loves her, but he’s always going on about how omegas are lesser-than. Not in those words, exactly. It’s more implied, like he talks about them being ‘sensitive’ and ‘vulnerable’ and ‘weak’ and shit. As though all that were poisonous. Just ‘cause she’s his wife doesn’t mean she transcends her omega nature, whatever that means to him. Sometimes, I think we’d all be better off without him. At least, I would.”

A beat. Then, “My dad’s gone.”

“What?” Connor asked, thinking he may’ve misheard. But as he thought about it…Hansen never had mentioned his dad. The other boys cheeks had turned bright red again and he was avoiding eye contact, fiddling with the zipper on his lunch box.

“He’s gone.” Hansen repeated, whether for Connor’s benefit or his own, Connor couldn’t tell. “Left when I was little. In a big U-Haul truck.”

“Oh.” was all Connor could think to say, and he internally kicked himself. He’d never been good at this sort of thing. “That’s pretty fucked up.”

“Y-yeah.”

“Sorry I brought up my dad then. Didn’t know.”

“S’fine. Not your fault.”

“You sure?”

“Mmhmm.” Hansen said, but it wasn’t very reassuring. Still, didn’t seem like he was going to make any headway. Connor supposed the subject was best left alone for now.

An awkward pause ensued. Connor repositioned himself and fished through his pocket for a match and a joint. He took out another and extended a hand to Hansen. “You wanna smoke?”

Hansen looked at him like he’d suddenly grown a second head. It was actually kind of hilarious. “N-no thanks I’m good.”

“You sure?” he asked. “Always helps me calm down.”

“Thanks, b-but I don’t, uh, want to put anything into my lungs besides air? And, uh, my mom’s always said that drugs can completely mess up your life—n-not that yours is messed up!—but I guess I just don’t, I don’t really know if I—”

“You don’t get out much, do you?” Connor couldn’t help but ask. He’d already figured Hansen wasn’t really the stoner type, but he’d hardly expected him to be this flustered at simply being offered a joint.

“No. No I don’t.” he said, and Connor supposed it was the first thing he’d ever heard Hansen say with any sort of conviction.

“Suit yourself.” he shrugged, putting the second joint away before lighting up his own. “Not gonna get offended ‘cause you won’t take a joint, just means another one for me later.”

He took a long, slow hit. He could feel Hansen’s eyes on him, watching the action with fascination.

“You said it c-calms you down?” the other boy asked, and Connor nodded silently in affirmation as he let the first wave wash over him.

“When I want to calm down, I squeeze silly putty.” Hansen went on, and Connor couldn’t help but smirk, it was just so fitting. “Maybe you should try it?”

Connor shook his head, “No thanks. Pot hasn’t let me down yet, so not really looking to make a change.”

“Well, think about it.” Hansen pressed, and as annoying as it was to have yet another person trying to exert their will over Connor, he supposed he found it somewhat nice that the other cared enough to do so. Connor wasn’t used to people caring at all. The change was refreshing.

The two sat in relative silence for a while. Connor smoked while Hansen finished up the rest of his lunch. Silence like that usually got to Connor, but he found this time strangely comfortable, somehow. Maybe it was because he and Hansen were both used to eating lunch alone, making it easy enough to be companionably silent. Or maybe it was being outside, the birdsong and rustling leaves filling what otherwise might’ve been a palpable quiet between them.

Eventually, the peal of the school bell cut through the sounds of the forest, causing Hansen to come to attention. “We have to go back to class now.”

Connor shrugged. “You go, I think I might take the rest of the day off.”

Hansen looked as though he wanted to counter this somehow, but bit back whatever he was going to say, for which Connor was grateful. “Alright, then. Will I see you again soon?”

“Sure, if you like.” Connor shrugged, leaving it open ended just in case the other boy thought about it and decided he didn’t like Connor much at all in hindsight. He’d done a lot of questionable things in his years, but he wouldn’t bully someone into being his friend. “You have my number, so use it whenever.”

“Okay, sounds good.” Hansen said, dusting off his pants as he stood up. He turned to walk back towards the school but stopped short, glancing back. “Hey, C-Connor?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for a great afternoon.” Hansen said, and Connor had never seen a smile so genuine directed at him before.

“S-sure,” he replied, and great, now _he_ was the one stuttering. “No problem.”

“Catch you later, yeah?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, see you!” Hansen said, giving a small, awkward wave before exiting the clearing, leaving Connor alone once more.

It hit him, in that moment, just how much he’d divulged to Hansen. He hadn’t meant to go that far, especially not about Larry. But the boy’s eyes were so curious and insistent that Connor couldn’t help himself. _Fucking hell._

Still, it wasn’t the worst thing. Hansen lacked both the self-esteem and the social capital to really do anything with what Connor had told him. And, maybe he was naïve to think so, but Evan Hansen didn’t seem like the kind of guy to take advantage of people when they were vulnerable with him. After all, they were both indys, stuck in the same leaky boat. And he’d gotten Hansen to share more about himself in return, so it was mutual, yeah? An exchange. A transaction. Maybe even a bona fide friendship.

He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh bonding! High hopes (for now)! Character development! Writing from Connor's POV is particularly fun for me, hope you all feel the same about reading it.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed, please leave comments and or kudos if so, as it's always such a pleasure to read what you have to say, not to mention highly motivating to know that people are keeping up with this. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, have a great day :)


	6. The one with the Really Nice House

Evan knew Connor’s house was nice. They’d been texting back and forth over the past several days since their lunch (more like Evan would send Connor various questions and continuously rephrase them until he got answers that were more than a couple words long), and he’d alluded to his family’s relative wealth a few times. Evan also knew that Connor’s dad was some high-powered corporate figure, and that his mom could afford to stay at home (a thought that stung Evan a little, especially since Connor didn’t really seem to appreciate what he had), so it didn’t really surprise him that the Murphy family was well off.

But Evan didn’t realize Connor’s house was _this_ nice.

It was two stories, for one. Every house in Evan’s neighborhood was single story, and though they had a basement it was constantly under repairs. Furthermore, this house was two stories of brick. Nice, solid, new brick, with what looked like a metal roof. He bet the house never got roughed up by winds and hurricanes, not really, anyway. Meanwhile Evan’s mom kept two old buckets specifically reserved for the purpose of collecting water from the ceiling leaks they would undeniably encounter each time a storm came around.

His heart skipped nervously as he took the cold metal door knocker in his grip. It felt like he was entering a palace. He wasn’t worthy.

“Evan Hansen? What are you doing here?” Startled by the sudden voice, Evan quickly turned to see Zoe Murphy looking at him from out a window on the front of the house, an amused smile playing on her lips. He wondered why, until he realized that, oh, he must’ve been standing out there holding the metal knocker for several minutes at that point. Evan looked back at his good hand. He was still holding it.

Flustered as he was shocked, Evan tore his hand away from the knocker and wiped it on his pants, as though trying to rid himself of the embarrassment.

Taking in a deep breath, he faced her again and gave the best smile he could muster (though he was sure it must’ve been more of a grimace, like someone just stepped on his toe or something; that was how his smile usually came out looking in photos). He tried to play it cool. “O-oh, hey Zoe! Fancy seeing y-you here! What are you up to?”

She quirked a brow at him, still amused, and what did she think was so funny anyway, why did she keep looking at him like that could she _just stop looking at him like that_?

“Evan, this is my house.” she explained, and Evan cringed. He apparently didn’t play it cool enough.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I knew that.” he said, which was true, although a part of him had definitely forgotten that coming over to see Connor involved probably, definitely running into Zoe Murphy as well.

It amazed him how, in the span of a week and a half, Connor had become the forefront Murphy in his life. If he’d told himself it’d be this way even a month ago, he wouldn’t have believed it for a second.

“Well do you want to come in?” she asked, and yes, Evan did want to come in thank you. Zoe disappeared from the window and was opening the door for him seconds later, welcoming him inside.

“Come on in, don’t be shy.” She said as she had to physically tug him in over the threshold because wowo _wow_. The front hall (a foyer? Was this grand enough to be called a foyer?) was big and open, with various framed artworks peppered across the sterile white walls and a glassy chandelier hanging from the ceiling far above. Evan blinked a few times before he was convinced it was even real.

“Zoe, sweetie, who’s at the door?” A voice called from what Evan assumed was the kitchen and Evan could hear the heels clacking on the floor as an older woman approached.

“Oh, and who do we have here?” she asked, smiling at Evan. Usually people smiling at him like that made Evan uncomfortable, but hers was so warm and sincere that he couldn’t help but smile back at her. “What’s your name, honey?”

“Uh, Evan. H-Hansen.” he said. He was about to stick out his good hand to shake hers before he realized it was still sweaty from having held the door knocker for several minutes, so instead he awkwardly retracted it in a sort of twitching movement that Mrs. Murphy _definitely_ saw, but was kind enough not to mention.

“Nice to meet you Evan, dear! I’m Mrs. Murphy; welcome to our home. And no need to look so nervous! Any friend of Zoe’s is a friend of the family.” Whoa, wait, friend of _Zoe’s_? Had Connor not told her about him, or mentioned that he was coming over?

Mrs. Murphy must’ve spotted the confusion in his face, but he jumped in before she could question him. “Um, a-actually I’m here to see Connor. He and I, w-we’re…” Were they actually friends? Evan thought so, but if they were friends it was pretty weird that Connor hadn’t mentioned him to his mother at all. “Well, we know each other.”

Evan saw Mrs. Murphy’s eyes widened in genuine shock for a split moment, and then she was positively _beaming_ at him. “Oh _really_ now! Connor never mentioned he’d made a friend! And such a nice one, too. Oh! You even have his name on your cast!” She clasped her hands together in delight, clearly unable to contain herself, and Evan had almost forgotten that he was still wearing Connor’s signature like a messy badge. Evan knew Connor was on the outs with most of the school, but had he really never had _anyone_ over before?

Zoe didn’t look as impressed. In fact, at the mention of Connor her face had turned more sour than Evan had ever seen it before. “Since when do you hang around with my brother?” she asked. And Evan knew it wasn’t meant to be accusatory but, well. It certainly sounded like it.

“Since ah, u-um…” he started, not knowing how to really explain without divulging too much information, since it was clear that Connor told them absolutely nothing. Both Murphy women looked at him expectantly. “Well, h-he and I, we’re both indeterminate. S-so once we realized we had that in common, we s-sort of became friends, I guess?” he explained. And it was true, of course, though it was hardly the whole story. But Mrs. Murphy didn’t need to know that.

“Well I think that’s _marvelous_.” She said, and she was so emphatic and bright eyed that she seemed to Evan like someone out of an old cartoon. “Kids are so tied up in their natures these days, especially at your age. And it’s made it especially hard for Connor to relate to people given that he…and you too…” she trailed off, floundering a bit. Evan could see that she was trying to be understanding and maintain a positive presence, but Connor’s lack of a nature was clearly something that bothered her. He wondered if it bothered his mom, too. They’d never had time to sit down and really talk much about it.

“Well, anyway. He’s upstairs in his room, so you can head straight on up there!” she said. “And please do let me know if you need anything, dear. So great to have you!”

“Thanks Mrs. Murphy. Zoe.” He nodded before heading up the stairs. Wow, he hated mingling with strangers. But all things considered, that had gone pretty well? Probably because the Murphys were so nice. Well, not Connor. Evan wouldn’t really describe Connor as nice. But Mrs. Murphy in particular definitely fit that bill. She was everything Evan had imagined a stay at home mom would be like.

He made his way down the hall until he got to the end and heard music coming from inside one of the rooms. He knocked, tentative.

The music switched off. “Mom, I told you to _leave me the fuck alone_.” An angry voice shouted from the other side of the door, and Evan, startled by the sudden aggression being misdirected at him, had to force himself to breathe deep before he clarified. “Actually, i-it’s Evan.”

There was silence, though Evan could swear he heard Connor muttering curses under his breath as the sound of footsteps on carpet grew closer to the door, which swung open to reveal a rather perturbed looking Connor Murphy running a hand through his hair and heaving a big sigh.

“Sorry about that, Hansen. I just—shit, I forgot you were coming over. Haven’t had anyone here since like pre-k, so sorry if I’m a bit less than prepped.”

“I-it’s fine, I’m used to it.”

Connor looked at him quizzically. “Used to what?”

“Being forgotten.” Evan told him matter-of-factly. He hoped it hadn’t come out sounding like he was looking for some form of consolation or pity or anything; he just said it because it was true.

To his credit, Connor didn’t take his comment too seriously (which Evan appreciated, no need to unlock that particular conversation outside of his therapist’s office), simply shaking his head, lips curling up into the beginnings of what looked like a smile (which, really, seemed to be a big deal for Connor) as he gestured for Evan to come in.

“Whoa.” Whatever he’d expected Connor Murphy’s room to look like, this wasn’t it. It was far neater than he’d expected, not neat as a pin, but generally tidy; even the bed was made. There were two big beanbags in the corner, and Evan was struck by the realization that Connor didn’t have friends over, so at least one of them probably just sat there empty, most of the time. The walls were navy blue, which suited Connor (the only wall color more fitting being black, but he doubted that the rest of the Murphy family would stand for it), and covered in posters of various bands.

“Yeah, well. This is it.” Connor said, and Evan had never known someone who could be less enthusiastic than Connor Murphy. Connor returned to fall back on his bed, where Evan presumed he’d been lying before he came in. Evan shuffled nervously in place, unsure of what to do with himself.

“…You’re a weird one, you know that, right Hansen?” Connor said, but his voice held no malice. “You can sit down, you know.”

Having been given permission (and he needed that because who knew, maybe Connor hated having people sit on his things! Maybe he was secretly a germaphobe! You could never be sure, and Evan didn’t want to risk screwing it up), he nodded and went to join Connor on the bed. Satisfied, Connor started playing his music again.

“Who’re you listening to?” Evan asked, and Connor looked so surprised that _oof_ , this was someone Evan should’ve recognized, wasn’t it?

“It’s Freddie Mercury,” Connor explained, and come to think of it, a lot of the posters around Connor’s room were for the same band. “He was the frontrunner for Queen.”

“Oh, I see!” At least half the posters Connor had said Queen on them, somewhere. Those with images of the band showed in the front a tall, darker man who seemed to have lots of energy despite his two dimensionality and looked absolutely stunning.

“Yeah. I really like them.”

“Have you ever seen them in concert?” he asked, and this time Connor looked even more confounded, like Evan was an alien.

“Dude, Freddie’s dead. Couldn’t see them in concert if I wanted to.”

“…Oh.” Evan shuffled awkwardly on the bed.

“He was an omega.” Connor said, and that felt pretty out of nowhere.

“Huh.”

“Yeah, so it’s actually a really big deal that they got as famous as they did.” he explained. “Freddie came from next to nothing, honestly, and once he presented his fate should have been sealed. But he had a crazy good voice that just _moved_ people, you know? Moved them beyond the fact that he was an omega. Enough people had his back that he was able to keep going, and people are still listening to his music long after he died.”

“W-wow, that’s actually really awesome.” Evan said, and he meant it. Examples of omegas rising above their nature, especially when hindered by other, additional circumstances, were so relatively unheard of that it was no wonder Connor thought this guy was so great. “I hope if I present as an omega I’m able to do the same thing.”

“Become a world famous rock ‘n roll artist?” Connor teased, and Evan felt his cheeks heat up embarrassedly at the thought of performing in front of people because _good god no_.

“N-no just, I dunno, do something worth m-mentioning?”

Connor nodded thoughtfully. “Well, I think that’s what we all want, honestly. But omegas certainly have a harder time of it. Freddie’s the exception, not the rule.”

“Well, it’s pretty cool. I can see why you like him so much.”

Connor laughed, the second time Evan had heard it, and his stomach did a somersault. It was just so…endearing, to see Connor actually express himself. “My dad also _hates_ him. I guess that’s another reason why I think he’s the shit. Kind of like a big middle finger to Larry when I play him in the house.”

A loud knock on the door interrupted them. Connor looked like he was about to shout something again when the door opened a crack and Zoe entered, arms crossed and expression still sour.

“Connor, can you please turn that down? I’m trying to study and I can hear it through the wall.”

Connor laughed again, but this time it sounded cruel, not at all like the one Evan had heard only moments before. “Well in that case I’ll crank it up louder. Can’t have you overworking yourself, can we, Zo?”

“Ugh, you’re impossible!” Zoe threw her arms up in the air. “Fine. If you insist upon being difficult, I’ll just go over to Alana’s to study.” She turned, and Evan was startled to find her glare now directed at him. “I don’t know why you want to hang out with my brother, Evan, but I suggest you stay away. He’s a loose cannon with no respect for family, or anyone else for that matter.”

“T-thanks Zoe, but I think C-Connor is—”

“Hansen can do whatever he damn well pleases.” Connor snapped, and if looks could kill, Evan was near certain that Zoe would be dead. “Now get the fuck out of my room.”

“Go to hell, Connor!” she spat before turning tail and leaving.

“Eat shit!” Connor shouted back as the door slammed shut behind her. Evan sat stock still, fearful that any movement on his part might start Connor yelling at _him_.

But the other boy just sighed wearily, and it was as though all the frustration left through the one large exhale, leaving room for something more like exhaustion in its wake.

With only a little bit of hesitance, Evan shifted closer to gently place a hand on his shoulder. “We don’t have to talk about that, if you don’t want to.”

Connor didn’t look up at him. Evan wasn’t sure for a moment if he’d even heard his words. But then the other boy grunted in what Evan assumed must’ve been affirmation, and really, that was enough for Evan to move on from it for now. It seemed to him that Zoe and Connor, two people he cared about, albeit in different ways (namely because he’d never actually hung out with Zoe, and well, then there was Connor), brought out the absolute worst in each other. Of course, Evan didn’t want to believe that things _had_ to be that way. But they were, at this point. So he wasn’t going to, couldn’t, dwell on it too much.

“Y-you wanna show me more of their music?”

“Yeah, sounds good.” Connor said, as though it wasn’t actually that good, but he’d decided it was going to be anyway. He popped in a different CD, but the same voice played into the room through his speakers. “ _Pressure, pushin' down on me…”_

Over the course of a couple songs the mood in the room lightened up considerably. Evan was finding that he did genuinely like the music Connor was showing him, and a couple minutes into the third song he was surprised to find himself unintentionally bopping along, drumming his fingers to the beat. Evan didn’t usually listen to much music; it didn’t always take him to places he wanted to go. But then again, he’d never listened to music with a friend before.

The best part was absolutely watching Connor. It quickly became apparent that he took his music very, very seriously. He passionately explained to Evan all about how, “you can really hear what he was going through at the time when he sings this line” and “this was the best song on the album; the critics didn’t understand shit”.

Sometimes, he’d even sing along, jumping between the harmony lines until his tune hardly made sense at all. His Bohemian Rhapsody rendition actually had Evan laughing aloud, as he shifted his tone from being high and squeaky to low and gravelly, like he was arguing with himself as he sang, accompanying facial expressions included.

“I’m just a poor boy nobody loves me—HE’S  JUST A POOR BOY FROM A POOR FAMILY!” Connor sang unapologetically, recklessly. His voice was hardly Freddie’s, but he was so full of life that Evan couldn’t help being enraptured by the scene.

“Nothing really matters…nothing really matters, to meeeee…” the song ended, and Connor took a deep bow before collapsing backwards onto the bed in a heap, breathing a bit hard with the exertion.

“That was…”

“Nope, don’t say anything Hansen, you’ll ruin—”

“ _Awesome_.” Evan couldn’t help himself finishing. He flopped on the bed to lay on his back next to Connor, and turned to face him. “You’re really something else. I didn’t know anyone could love anything that much.”

Connor looked at him, eyes thoughtful, before nodding. “Gotta have something to anchor you to this world, Hansen. Otherwise you’ll just fall right off.”

“Where did you learn to sing like that?” Evan asked, and Connor tsk’d, elbowing him teasingly in the side.

“Sing like what? Like a dying mule?”

“N-no! Not at all! You sound great! Not trained or anything, but like, you’re having fun, it’s just—!” Evan stopped. Connor was staring back at him directly, intensely. Their faces were so close. It threw him off. “Y-you’re having so much fun, is all. So it’s fun to listen to.”

They stayed like that for a moment, just looking at each other. Connor’s eyes weren’t just blue; there was a bit of brown in there as well. Evan hadn’t noticed that before. He also noticed that some of Connor’s hair had ended up tucked behind his ear, revealing a single studded ear piercing. It…suited him. Really nicely, actually. Evan was surprised his hair was normally covering it, so no one could see.

In the relative silence, he could hear Connor’s breathing in and out, watch the rise and fall of his chest as he caught up with himself post performance. He could also hear someone’s heart beating, but whether it was Connor’s or his own or both, he couldn’t really tell.

Connor shifted a bit on the bed (a little closer? Maybe? Or maybe Evan was just imagining it) but didn’t really stop looking at him, and it was crazy to Evan how quickly they’d come to know each other. Then again, their rather catastrophic first meeting had done a pretty good job at setting things rapidly in motion. He doubted they’d had ever spoken more than two words to each other if their indeterminate status hadn’t come up so…forcibly? But what was really incredible was the extent to which he felt he _knew_ Connor. They’d shared more in a week and a half than Evan had ever shared with anyone else, save maybe his mom.

A knock on the door snapped them out of their reverie. “Connor, is Evan staying for dinner? I’m making meatballs!”

Evan looked to Connor, who just shook his head. “Nah, mom, he’s gonna head home before then.”

“Alright—well Evan sweetie, know that you’re always welcome, any time!”

“Thanks Mrs. Murphy!” he called, hoping she heard him as she retreated down the stairs.

Connor sat up and adjusted his hair, askew from all the headbanging he’d been doing, before addressing Evan again. “You don’t need to be put through that. Larry’s coming home tonight; it’s a family dinner and that never ends well.”

Evan felt sad for Connor, but more than that, he felt jealous. Not that he was jealous of Connor’s seemingly horrible relationship with his dad, no that was just sad. But Evan had never had family dinners. Evan, for all intents and purposes, had never even really had a father.

Still, he bit his tongue, his mom’s words ringing in his head: ‘ _no one wears jealousy well, honey’._ He didn’t want Connor to have to go to a family dinner alone, either, but it didn’t seem like there was really much he could do about that. “Alright. S-sorry that you have to be, ah, put through it.”

Connor shrugged. “Nothing to do about it. Just don’t need you suffering alongside me.”

“Well, I guess that means I-I should go, then?” Evan said, though it came out sounding a lot more like a question, since his mom wasn’t going to be home ‘til late so he didn’t exactly have someone he needed to get home to.

Connor nodded, “I’ll walk you out.”

They headed down to the door, and Evan found himself once more mystified by the grandeur of the Murphy home. Connor looked amused. “Look all you want; Cynthia designed it all, I’m sure she’s thrilled that you like it.”

“Your mom did _this_?” Evan was amazed.

“Yup, she was an interior designer before she married Larry. She can’t help herself when it comes to decorating.”

“She is really nice, Connor. I’m glad I got to come over.” He said, and he meant it. Even with the Zoe confrontation, coming over to the Murphy’s house felt like being let into Connor’s inner sanctum. It felt like trust. It felt like—

“See you tomorrow then, Hansen?” Connor’s question brought him back to attention, and he nodded an enthusiastic affirmative.

“Cool, well. ’til then.”

Evan gave a little wave with his good hand and had a foot out the door when he whirled around again, “Connor w-wait a second!”

“Mmm?”

Evan took a deep breath. “You know that I…don’t think you’re bad, or anything, right?”

Connor watched him, shrewdly, as though he were evaluating him for a moment before he replied. “Yeah. Yeah I know.”

“Okay, good. Just wanted to make sure.”

“Bye, Hansen.”

“S-see you.”

Evan finally shut the door behind him, heart beating wildly in his chest. He hoped he didn’t offend Connor just then, he just…especially after what Zoe said earlier, he _had_ to be sure that Connor knew.

The rest of the night passed without event for Evan. He heated up his frozen pizza, per usual, and watched a few episodes of the soap opera he was following (It was called “The Nature of Love”, or something similarly generic and trite, he couldn’t remember exactly). Eventually, the clock turned to 11:00, and he decided to call it a night.

As he nestled under the covers, the day unfolded in his mind, and he smiled. Knowing Connor had gone from being a source of major anxiety to one of the best things that had ever happened to him. And what they had…it didn’t feel pretend at all. It felt like friendship.

Evan fell asleep quickly, and, for the first time in years, slept straight through to morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Connor liking Queen was such an organic and unplanned development but I LOVE IT. Definitely running with it. If you listen to the Bohemian Rhapsody lyrics specifically, it's really, really relevant. Actually. Kind of scary how that worked out. Highly recommend listening to it and thinking of Connor (and now I want Mike Faist to sing Bohemian Rhapsody for me...)
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! The next chapter is ~the chapter~ so get hyped, and please in the meantime let me know what you think/what you like/what you're looking forward to. Much love!


	7. The one where Things Change

Connor woke up with a dry mouth and a pounding headache. But that wasn’t the weird part.

The weird part was he wasn’t hungover. He’d gone to bed early the night before, and though his sleep had been rather restless, that in itself shouldn’t have been unusual. He felt _parched_ , as though he hadn’t had anything to drink in days, which was obviously untrue.

He got up, and the intense blood rush to his head caught him off-guard; he stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. Great, so not only did it feel like someone was drumming on the inside of his skull, but he was woozy now, too. And sweating. The house was _sweltering_ hot. Did Larry turn off the fucking AC or something?

Maybe he should ask Cynthia if he could stay home sick? Only no, that wouldn’t do. When Connor didn’t go to school it was because he skipped and went somewhere else. He’d missed plenty of classes, but he’d never spent that time hanging around at _home_ before. He never wanted to be home any more than he absolutely had to and, fever or no, that wasn’t going to change.

He quickly changed into a black sleeveless tank and some shorts (never mind that it was well into fall, he was just so fucking _hot_ ) before running downstairs.

“Connor, would—” _you like some breakfast_? Connor normally would have been able to finish the sentence for her; she always asked, he always said no, they were like morning clockwork. But today his mom stopped short, forehead creasing with concern. “Why are you dressed like that? You know it’s raining today, right?”

Connor didn’t know that. But he couldn’t bring himself to mind. “Gotcha. Don’t care. See you.”

“C-Connor, honey!” his mom called after him, but he’d shut the door before she had a chance to finish her sentence.

It was, in fact, raining. The raindrops felt like cool heaven on Connor’s skin; he was sure he could feel each one sizzle as it touched him, like he was a frying pan or some shit. He stood there for a moment, shivering, letting the water run down his face and arms and legs like sweet relief. He wanted to let himself get drenched until his shorts were soaked through—but he figured he wouldn’t be too thrilled with that situation once he was driving. So he reluctantly tore himself away from the steps and strode purposefully towards the Jeep.

Connor’s Jeep was no wonder. It was the black sheep of the Murphy family cars (which was fitting, seeing as Connor was the black sheep of the Murphy family members) in that it was used, loud, a bit banged up, and didn’t have heated seats.

Larry had gotten him the Jeep, albeit reluctantly, because he needed to drive to school. He’d wanted to get Connor something nicer, like Zoe’s Audi, but no, that wouldn’t have worked. His Jeep may’ve looked like a piece of shit next to the other cars in the driveway, but it was reliable. And Connor loved it.

 He shut the door and shook the droplets out of his hair (because Larry couldn’t stand anything happening to the upholstery, and Connor was determined to take shots at his dad whenever he could, even if they were small) before revving up the Jeep. His heart was beating fast and he felt inexplicably anxious.

He pealed out of the driveway. It may’ve been the fever, or the anxious adrenaline, he didn’t know, but Connor had never driven to school so fast in his life.

Things hadn’t gotten much better by the time he arrived. He was there early, for one (which _never_ happened, if he could help it), so there weren’t many other people milling about. He’d mostly dried off during the drive there, which should have been good, except it meant that his fever or whatever-the-fuck had come rampaging back in full force. It was like he was trapped in a moving sauna. Everything was so hot and he felt claustrophobic and his breathing was labored and _what in the hell_ —

“Heeey, Connor!” And of _course_ he would run into Jared fucking Kleinman. Today of all days. His morning could not get any worse.

“Kleinman don’t say another word or I swear you’ll regret it.” he snarled, and he was a bit surprised at just how harsh it came out. Didn’t much care though, he knew Kleinman could take it.

“Whoooa, touchy today, aren’t we? Who pissed in your pudding, Murphy?” he asked, but before Connor could tell him to go fuck himself gently with a chainsaw, Jared’s expression suddenly shifted from his normal smugness to…confusion?

“New perfume, Murphy? What, the nail polish wasn’t enough? Are you gonna come into school wearing a dress next?”

Now Connor was confused. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” But Jared didn’t seem to be listening, just kept sniffing the air.

“No no, I definitely smell something.” he said, and slowly began to move closer to Connor, albeit not sauntering over like he usually did. It seemed as though he was being pulled towards Connor by some invisible magnetism. It was weirding Connor the hell out.

“Jared Kleinman if you don’t get the fuck away from me right—” his words were cut short because suddenly Jared’s face was buried in his neck, breathing deeply, arms wrapping round his waist and Connor couldn’t move, and he was pissed off and scared yes but also—

“Where in the hell did you find this perfume, Murphy? What’s it called? You smell like sex on legs…” a shiver ran involuntarily down Connor’s spine. His heart was beating out of his chest and Jared was looking at him like he was something to be devoured and that was _quite enough thank you_.

It took more strength than it should have to wrench Kleinman from his neck, but he managed to forcibly shove him away. He was about to punch the kid square in the face when someone called from down the hall: “W-wait, no, _stop that_!”

And, beyond all reason, Connor stopped. Kleinman scampered towards the lockers on the other side of the hall, but he didn’t move to go after him. Because Connor heard those words and his chest opened and suddenly he could breathe again. And when he breathed in, it didn’t smell like high school; it smelled like sunny forest fields, with tall pines and a fresh breeze blowing, and cloves and flowers and—

_Evan Hansen_. The voice and the wonderful smell were both coming from Evan Hansen. Evan Hansen, who had stopped still in the hallway and was staring at Connor with dilated pupils and rosy cheeks. Who had broken up the fight between him and Kleinman like before, but this time with words that seemed to resonate throughout Connor’s whole being. And whose eyes were now locked on Connor, awed and scared and _hungry_ all at once.

“Connor, you…” Hansen started, and oh _god_. Hearing his name in the other’s mouth was like sun-loosened limbs and warm milk in his belly.

“Holy shit, Connor Murphy is purring!” Kleinman shouted, snapping Connor from his reverie enough to realize that there was a rumble in his throat, and oh god he _had_ been purring since Hansen said his name like that. And he hadn’t wanted to stop because he needed Hansen to know how much he’d liked it, and how much he wanted him to say his name again, and he could feel something slick starting to move down the back of his leg and _jesus fucking chirst_.

“H-hey, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be fine Connor…” Hansen started, tentatively approaching him and Connor felt powerless to move as he came slowly closer. Hansen reached out a hand to touch his arm, and it was as though an electric shock passed between them, making Connor groan and arch his neck, because he wanted, _needed_ …

He needed to get out of there.

Connor had to fight against every part of his being to push Hansen away, but he did. He took one more look into the other’s blue eyes, big with hurt and confusion and want, before he raced down the hall, leaving a shell-shocked Evan Hansen in his wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!
> 
> Short chapter on purpose because 1. turning point alert and 2. ~suspense~. Thoughts? Feelings? Comments? I'd love to hear them! Let me know what you think :)


	8. The one where Connor is thirsty

Connor woke up in the nurse’s office, head still pounding like mad.

He didn’t know when exactly he’d fainted. After bolting from Hansen and Kleinman, he’d run into another group of kids he didn’t particularly recognize, about half of whom were also looking at him like he was something on a dinner plate. Feeling cornered, he ran through the halls for a bit, practically tripping over himself. He felt so lightheaded and so hot that he was sure he must’ve passed out from sheer sensory overload.

“Oh! You’re awake!” Someone was with him…? He didn’t recognize the voice right away, but it was far, _far_ too chipper, if his headache had anything to say about it. He groaned, shifting position in what must’ve been one of the nurse’s beds, and opened his eyes a crack.

Connor didn’t know who he'd anticipated, but of all people, he did not expect to find Alana Beck sitting at his bedside, smiling down at him from a chair nearby.

Her smile only grew when she saw that he’d opened his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alright! Took quite a fall there; you turned a corner and suddenly wham! Passed out on the ground right near where I was standing.”  She beamed proudly at him. “I was glad to be there to help you; after all, you’re one of my closest acquaintances.”

Connor blinked, trying to think of when he might’ve made acquaintance with Alana. He supposed she and Zoe were good friends and he had met her a few times before. But by that metric, he was pretty sure _everyone_ was one of Alana’s closest acquaintances.

He had so many questions, he didn’t know where to start. “Where…” he began, and was surprised to find his voice croaky and dry, his throat burning. He shook his head; first things first. “W-water. Could you get me some water?”

Alana nodded, enthusiastic to be needed. She filled up a clear plastic cup and handed it to him, watching fascinated as he drank it in one gulp.

“More.” he said, more of a command than a question.

“You’re not really one to mince words, are you?” she asked, but still she went up and got him two more cups. He downed both with speed similar to the first, and sighed. He was beginning to feel a bit more like himself.

Alana looked at him curiously, paying rapt attention to his every movement. People had been watching him all morning, it seemed, but this was different somehow.

“You’re looking at me.” he said, blunt. Good thing Alana didn’t expect him to wax poetic about anything. In that moment Connor hardly felt he had the brain power to form a full sentence.

“Yes."

“…But you’re not looking at me like you want to eat me.” he elaborated. And apparently this was the funniest thing ever, because Alana began to laugh hysterically.

“That’s because I’m a beta!” she said, and the ‘ _duh!_ ’ at the end was implied. But Connor didn’t get the joke.

Alana stopped laughing. Her eyes widened in realization. “ _Oh_ , you mean you really don’t…?” she trailed off, awed at his apparent ignorance.

“Connor, you’re an omega.”

Connor just stared at her blankly. “No.”

This was apparently not the response Alana had expected to hear. She looked back at him quizzically, fixing her glasses and adjusting herself in her seat before she spoke again. “ _No_? What do you mean no? Connor, you presented today. We could smell you. That’s why all the alphas are looking at you like you’re a prime steak.”

 _Smell me_ …? That was impossible; Connor had no smell. He was indeterminate. An indy freak.

But then he flashed back to the way Jared looked at him, asked him about some new perfume, right before he buried his face in Connor’s neck like he wanted to, _needed_ to get more of that scent and—

No. Nonono _no._ This could _not_ be happening.

Connor sat up tall in bed, eyes wide, suddenly finding himself in full-blown panic mode. “B-but that’s impossible! I’m an alpha!” He looked at Alana pleadingly, because he needed her to tell him, to confess that this was all some sort of elaborate prank.

The student council president simply shook her head. “Connor, I may be a beta, but I have a sense of smell. I can confirm that you are, undoubtedly, an omega.” Connor’s heart sank.

“B-b-but…” he babbled, disoriented, refusing to incorporate what he heard her saying, knowing only that he had to find some way to prove her wrong. “B-but I’m not _gay_!”

Alana tried to look sympathetic, but she couldn’t hide the laugh she was doing her best to hold back. “Connor, just because you’re a male omega doesn’t mean you have to be gay. Omegas can and do pair up with alphas and betas of either sex—and rarely even with other omegas!—so while many omega men will in fact find themselves attracted to alpha men, that doesn’t mean they’re predestined to be with one. It’s a stereotype, but it doesn’t always work that way.”

Connor only blinked back at her. “How…did you know all that?”

Alana grinned. “I’ve always been fascinated by the second sexes. I just took a class called ‘Advent of the Modern Omega’ over at the nearby college.” she explained proudly. “Sometimes I take classes there after school, because the classes here don’t always go into so much detail.”

“U-uh-huh.” was all Connor could say, his brain reeling in an attempt to catch up on all that was happening. Even though a large part of him still didn’t want to believe it, deep down he knew that what Alana was saying must be true. “So…let me get this straight. I presented…as an omega today.” He had to wrench the words out of himself, grimacing as though they were physically painful to say.

Alana nodded, “Congratulations, by the way! You’re no longer indeterminate.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed, glaring. “You say that like it’s a _good_ thing. It’s obviously fucking not.”

Alana rolled her eyes, and her dismissiveness killed him. Why couldn’t she see that what he was experiencing right now was his literal hell? Why couldn’t she even _pretend_ to sympathize with him when he was in such dire straits? “Being an omega isn’t bad Connor. It’s just different than being a beta or an alpha, is all.”

Connor scoffed at her, “Yeah, only if by ‘different’ you mean that I’m basically a human sex doll with no hope for a future career. People used to look at me because I was the indy freak. Now they’re going to look at me because I’m the omega that they want to get freaky _with_. And if you think that’s better in any way, then you clearly need to get your head out of your ass.”

“Omegas are _not_ ‘human sex dolls’.” Alana said sternly. Her sudden anger caught him off guard, mostly in that she was more offended by that than by him telling her she needed to get her head out of her ass. _What a weird girl_.

“Omegas are necessary for society! They’re the caregivers, the nurturers, the ones who make the world a better place!” she was almost shouting now, and it made it feel like she was giving a big speech rather than just talking to Connor one-on-one. “They may not be able to kick a ball as well as some alpha, but they have this amazing capacity to ground people. A lot of the people who lead international peace talks are actually omegas! And people were just looking at you like that today because you just presented and you’re unbonded. It won’t always be like that.”

Now that Connor thought of it, his mom didn’t seem to walk around feeling sick and getting pounced on all the time, even though she obviously smelled like an omega. “It won’t? But wouldn’t that mean I’d have to get bonded, like, tomorrow?”

“No, silly! Maybe centuries ago, but that’s what we have scent and heat repressors for! What, you didn’t think that omegas walked around feeling like you did today all the time?” And…well, Connor didn’t know what he’d thought. The truth was he hadn’t thought much about omegas at all before this, period.

“S-so omegas today _don’t_ go through heats?” he asked, and he could hear the hope in his own voice for just a moment before a shake of Alana’s head squashed it.

“No, they do. Just not as frequently as they otherwise would. I think the most common heat repressors space it out to once every three months? You can’t keep the heats from happening forever; that type of physiological repression wears hard on an omega body long term. And it only lasts two days, so really, it’s not all that bad. Most working omegas will just take heat leave and then work on a weekend or something to make up for it if they need to.”

Connor didn’t know why he was so surprised to find that there was an organized system for this stuff. He supposed he wasn’t, in fact, the only omega to ever exist. Get enough of anyone together with a common problem and someone will try to solve it.

But he didn’t know that many omegas…didn’t see them around…Though that could easily be explained by the fact that all of his social interactions essentially boiled down to arguing with his family, telling off other people in the hallway at school, and Hansen.

 _Hansen_. Connor hadn’t thought about him since he’d woken up, but even the idea of the other boy sent new energy coursing through his body like lightening.

He arched his back suddenly and involuntarily in his bed, letting out a low moan as his body moved towards…he didn’t know what, but he knew it wasn’t there. Alana let out a small startled ‘eep!’, frightened by his unexpected movement. The feeling, the pulse of energy that seemed to momentarily overtake him, faded almost as soon as it had arrived. But it left Connor panting a bit as he fell back to the bed, the feeling replaced by a new and very disheartening emptiness that he couldn’t ignore.

“Connor, a-are you okay?” he opened his eyes to find Alana peering at him, concerned. “Something came over you all of a sudden. Are you feeling alright?”

That was a more difficult question than it should have been. He supposed he wasn’t feeling _not_ alright, but the thought of Hansen…“I’m fine. Just feeling sort of, uh, empty.” he explained, mentally smacking himself upside the head for sounding so small. ‘Empty’ was something he’d have used to describe himself in some angsty middle school poem, not at all a time he wished to return to, and yet it was the only word he could think of to express how he felt.

Surprisingly, Alana wasn’t looking totally confused, though her concern didn’t fade. “Empty? What do you mean, exactly?”

“Empty like I, ah…need to be filled?” _Stupid_ , again. That was just another way of saying what the word ‘empty’ means. And he was pretty sure Alana hadn’t needed a dictionary definition.

But she looked back at him like this explained something, if not everything. It pissed Connor off. _He_ was the one experiencing all this shit. How was it fair that she seemed to understand things about him that he didn’t?

Still, he couldn’t say it wasn’t helpful to have her around. God knows he’d have been a total mess if he’d woken up alone and was left entirely to his own thoughts.

“Connor, the feeling you’re expressing makes a lot of sense considering the fact that you presented today.” She told him, sounding calm and entirely too clinical. Connor wasn’t sure what she wasn’t telling him or if he preferred it that way. “But a bit odd to be coming on so strong, since you aren’t in heat…” she seemed to take a moment to think before she looked at him again, eyes sharp behind her glasses. “Did you run into anyone…in particular, before you passed out?”

The fuck did she mean by ‘in particular’? How was he supposed to answer that? For someone so smart, Alana could be far too vague. “I mean, yeah? I had a run in with Kleinman. Acting all weird, said I smelled like sex and shit. And then…H-Hansen was also there. After that, ran into a few groups, but no one really stood out, then I fainted. Don’t know why you care.”

But her eyes lit up with interest when he said Hansen’s name. “You saw Evan, then?” And when she said his name, his _first_ name, it made Connor’s stomach do somersaults. He winced at his own response, and cursed his shitty body for betraying him as he nodded.

“Was there anything weird about him?” she pressed.

“Not that I can—” recall, he was about to say, until the memory of the smell hit him like a wall. It was so deeply enticing, so basically intoxicating, he’d never smelled anything like that before…

“Connor, you’re sniffing the air.” Alana pointed out, giggling as Connor snapped back to attention.

“The smell.” He explained, suddenly very focused on communicating this, because he needed _someone_ else to understand. “He smelled like…trees? And flowers, and all this other good crap. It was addictive.”

Alana lit up. “Oh my god, Connor! You know what this means, right?”

“Uh, no?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” she asked, and whenever she asked the answer was always no. “Evan’s an alpha! He must’ve presented today too, probably spurred on by your presentation! I’ve heard that can tend to happen, especially when the alpha and omega in question are familiar with each other…”

“Whoa, whoa whoa. Hold the fuck up.” Connor waved his hands in the air, as though to dash Alana’s words away. “Hansen? Socially anxious, short, broke his arm falling out of a tree Hansen? An _alpha_? Sure. And the sky’s purple.”

Alana adjusted her glasses again, trying hard to hide her clearly growing frustration at Connor’s repeated disbelief. “I know he may not look like it, but if he smelled like that to you, he’s definitely an alpha. Not only that,” she looked straight at him, her eyes flashing, “he’s an alpha you have high bonding potential with.”

Connor’s face blanched at this, and his heart started to pound wildly. For the second time that day his mind practically screamed at him with an insistence that blocked out any other thoughts that _no that could not possibly be true_.

“Why the fuck do you say that?” he said, trembling a bit. “That shit about bonding potential? You don’t know me. You don’t know Hansen. You have no right to—”

“I didn’t say that I knew for sure.” Alana cut him off, and it was probably a good thing, because he was getting riled up. Connor didn’t like himself when he got that angry. “All I’m saying is it sounds like something more than just your average run-in with an alpha. Omegas run into alphas all the time, and of course scents interact—you said something about Kleinman smelling you?” she paused to let Connor respond, but he only nodded, trying to maintain even breathing and keep from balling his hands into fists beneath the sheets. “But when you described Evan…I’ve just heard that when there’s high potential for a bond, the smell can be strong like that when, normally, it’d only be like that if you were in heat.”

What she was saying…Connor didn’t know if it made sense or not. He was confused, and tired, and this whole thing was so new it was fucking him over from all angles.

But he did know that he didn’t want any alpha, especially not Hansen, telling him what to do. He wasn’t ready to see his friend, his only friend, become yet another person who wanted to hold their power over him, to control him in some sense. He’d liked Hansen because he wasn’t like that, there was more even ground in that relationship than Connor had ever had with anyone. But if Hansen was an alpha, well. That couldn’t continue. Especially if they were ‘compatible’ or whatever. Hansen wouldn’t be able to see him as Connor anymore. He’d just see a piece of meat. And Connor couldn’t bear to let that come to pass.

“Well fuck him, then.” He spat, more aggressively than intended, but he couldn’t help himself. “I don’t need that in my life. I don’t need any goddamn alpha who thinks they’re better than me because of fucking genetics, thinking they have some say in how I live my life.”

Alana opened her mouth as though she were about to say something, but Connor sat up in bed, continuing. “Nuh uh. It’s my turn now, so _you’re_ going to listen. I have people telling me what to do all the time at home, and because of this pleasant little development, that’s only gonna get worse from here on out. So I don’t need that from you. Or anyone else. And I definitely don’t need it from Evan motherfucking Hansen.” He spit Hansen’s name out of his mouth as though it were a foul taste, making sure that he drove the point home for Alana, leaving no room for doubt. “So if you see him around, and he asks about me, tell him the friendship is done. I don’t need any more unnecessary bullshit in my life. I’ve got enough of that as it is.”

Alana looked back at him, struck, as though his words were physically hitting her, but she stayed where she sat. After a long pause, she nodded. “Understood.” A beat, then “If you ever need me, Connor, know that I’m here.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “Thanks, whatever. Gotta try to figure some of this out on my own.” Alana nodded again, and Connor supposed he was lucky she could read a room so well and hadn’t pressed him further. She turned to make her way out the door, silently, only a bit forlorn (which fuck her honestly, this was his problem not hers), and Connor’s heartbeat was finally slowing back to normal.

But as the tightness and the anger began to leave him, a great feeling of sadness began to sink in. Because shit if Hansen hadn’t been the only real friend he’d ever had. He’d liked hanging out with him, enjoyed getting to know him, looking at him…

But no. If his brain was going to take those crazy, hormone-fueled turns (and that’s really all they were; it was as though some beast had taken residence up inside of him and decided to focus all its attention on one Evan Hansen), he couldn’t let it continue. No matter whether or not Hansen was a good kid. No matter that they had been friends. He was an alpha. And Connor was an omega. And there was no way in hell he was letting Hansen hold that over him. He’d sooner die than let Hansen have that.

The only one Connor belonged to was himself, goddamnit. And omega or no, he was determined to keep it that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I absolutely had to do two Connor chapters in a row but don't worry Evan will be back next time around.
> 
> I'm so glad you enjoyed the prior chapter so much! The positive reception made me really happy to read, especially now with the plot more in motion :D. I start school up again soon, so don't be surprised if the updates slow down a bit but I will absolutely finish, I'm pumped about this story and want to see it through
> 
> Leave comments and kudos if you like it, especially any thoughts or things you'd like to see down the line! Thanks for reading!


	9. The one where Jared gets Smug and they end up in a Janitor's Closet

“Dude, what the crap was that about in the hallway earlier?” Jared asked him for what must’ve been the fourth or fifth time as they sat together studying in the library. ‘Studying’ was a loose term; Evan and Jared shared a free period, and while Evan insisted this meant studying, Jared almost always seemed to get other ideas. The best days were when Jared initially tried to engage Evan, but eventually gave up and played video games on his computer, allowing Evan to actually get work done. The worst days were, well, days like this.

“ _Helloooo_ , Earth to Evan.” Jared started again, poking Evan in the arm with his pencil. “Is anyone in there?”

“Yes, there is someone in here Jared but he’s trying to work.” _And trying_ not _to think about Connor Murphy_ , his brain reminded him, but Evan pushed the thought away. This had been an ongoing internal battle ever since the morning.

“Not doing a very good job.” Jared evaluated, pointedly looking down at Evan’s notes. ‘Notes’ was also a loose term, because it looked very much like Evan was hardly taking notes at all. The lines on his paper were mostly incomprehensible scribbles (he’d scribbled so hard that he ripped through the paper in a few places), and there were drawings that looked vaguely reminiscent of trees in the margins, but were more gnarled and less precise than usual. Evan supposed it was a good thing that he wasn’t adept at drawing anything besides trees, lest his drawings be more revealing of whatever’s actually on his mind to people like Jared.

And suddenly, unbidden, he envisioned a piece of notebook paper dedicated entirely to drawings of Connor Murphy’s eyes. Some would show the crinkles that form beneath them when he laughs. Some might be very precisely shaded, highlighting the part where blue fades to brown. And some would be staring directly from the page and into Evan’s soul, like they did when he was on Connor’s bed the other day…

Evan swallowed nervously, willing away both that mental image and the feeling of tightness in his pants, which was becoming concerningly frequent. It wasn’t that he didn’t get, ah, tight there occasionally; he was human after all, and it was only normal. But this was the third time _today_. Evan had never thought of himself as a particularly sexual being regardless, but he knew that three separate unwarranted, um, ‘occasions’ before school even let out was a lot for anyone. And each one had sprung from something that, when traced back, predictably led to Connor Murphy.

Good god, he hoped Jared didn’t notice.

“ _Evan_ ,” Jared broke through his daydream, and thank god for that, because allowing his thoughts to continue in that direction would only lead to bad things and Evan didn’t want to think of Connor and ‘bad things’ in the same sentence. “Dude, seriously, are you alright? You’ve been all weird since what happened this morning.”

“Not that you aren’t normally weird.” Jared caught himself, and he wouldn’t be Jared if he didn’t say things like that. Jared wasn’t always nice, but he was loyal and consistent, and Evan appreciated him for it. “Just weirder than usual. You look like you’re off on another planet half the time. Daydreaming about Connor Murphy…”

Evan’s face turned beet red almost instantaneously. “I-I am _n-not_ thinking of Connor!” he said, far too loud for the library, earning a ‘shhh’ and a pointed glare from those sitting at the desk nearest to them and a smug, knowing smile from Jared.

“Uh- _huuuuh_. Definitely not.” Jared’s smile broadened, catlike, as he snatched Evan’s notebook from his side of the desk and started to read through.

“J-Jared, no! Stop that!” he asked, but Jared ignored him, instead beginning to narrate what he saw on the page.

“‘In 1776, the delegation ‘scent’ the Declaration of ‘Dependence’ to King George III, who did not accept their motion, and their argument quickly turned heated…’” Evan flared with embarrassment as he listened to Jared read. He wanted to crawl into a dark hole somewhere and not come out for weeks.

Jared slid his notebook back across the table. “Evan. The declaration was of _in_ dependence, you misspelt ‘ _scent_ ’, like sense of smell, and the argument turned _heated_. Freud would have a fucking field day with this.” he smirked triumphantly, and Evan was sure he had never felt more humiliated. The worst part was that Jared didn’t have to make any of it up at all; those were his bona fide notes, plain to see, and he couldn’t pretend anything otherwise.

“Ok, yeah, I suppose I’ve been a b-bit distracted.” Evan conceded, voice small. For a second, he could have sworn he saw a look of concern cross Jared’s face, but it was gone as soon as it’d come.

“Look, Ev,” the other started, clapping a hand hard on his shoulder in a way that wasn’t so comforting, but Evan knew he was coming from a good place. “It’s not your fault. Connor smelled fucking delectable this morning. I couldn’t keep myself from falling into him, and I hate the guy. As an alpha, it’s perfectly natural that you’d—”

“Wait, J-Jared, hold on.” Evan stopped him. Jared looked a bit miffed at being cut off when he was clearly in the middle of what was meant to be a consoling soliloquy, but Evan continued. “W-what did you just say?”

“That Connor Murphy smelled delec—”

“ _No_ , no not about t-that! The other thing!”

Jared quirked a brow, confused, but continued on anyway. “That, as an alpha, it’s perfectly natural that you’d—”

“That! Right there! You said alpha and you! But not like, _you_ , you. Like, _me_ , you.”

Jared just stared at him. “Evan,” he started, speaking slowly, as though he were talking to a small child. “You do know that you presented today, yeah?”

At this, Evan’s mind went blank. Like ‘Error 404: Jared’s words do not compute’ level blank. Because _no_. That simply wasn’t possible. He was the invisible indeterminate. There was no world in which he, Evan Hansen, riddled with insecurities and anxieties and with a penchant for romantic soap operas and trees and being held, could ever conceivably be an—

“Alpha.” Jared clarified, and Evan felt the blood drain from his face. “I saw the way you looked at Connor this morning. You smelled him, just like I did. Your eyes got all big. If that doesn’t say for sure that you’re an alpha I don’t know what does.”

“Wow that’s a really funny joke Jared I’m laughing I swear but it’s kind of stressing me out and—”

“You used the alpha voice.” Jared pointed out. “When you broke us apart. You commanded us to stop, using the voice, and that’s what made Connor go still and listen to you, and all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Jared I didn’t use any voice or anything and if you could please just stop—”

“And when you and Connor touched it was like someone shocked you both with a livewire. Like, you looked _hungry_ , dude. It was kinda freaky.”

“ _Jared please stop right now I can’t_ —!”

“Shh!” The librarian gave them both a stern look, accompanied by several students staring at them, and Evan hadn’t realized that he’d stood up from his seat.

He was panicked, borderline hyperventilating, and he needed to get out of there right now. He grabbed Jared by the arm.

“What the—?!” the other briefly protested, but Evan dragged him out of the library anyway, walking down the hall until he spotted a nearby janitor’s closet and yanked Jared inside with him.

“Wow, Evan, I didn’t realize you were into this kinky shit.” Jared whistled low and waggled his eyebrows. “Hooking up during a school day? Tres rebellious. I hate that I have to reject such an impassioned offer—”

“Jared that is not what this is about and you know it!” Evan raised his voice again and the other clammed up. It wasn’t often that Jared took him seriously, but Evan saw the understanding dawn in his eyes, and Evan figured he must look frantic.

Jared took a deep breath. “Okay, you’re right. So, you’re not here to make out with me in a janitor’s closet, you’re trying to iron out this whole alpha business.”

“I’m _not_ an alpha.” Evan whined, sinking despairingly to the floor. Jared followed suit, plopping down between him and a nearby mop.

“Hey, dude. Relax. The pieces add up, don’t they? You know I wouldn’t lie to you.” And Evan didn’t exactly know that, there were plenty of times that he could recall where Jared had been less than truthful…but the seriousness in Jared’s voice told him now was not one of those times.

He took a shaky breath and hugged himself around the knees. “The pieces…do add up.” he conceded. “B-but they shouldn’t! Connor should be the alpha, not m-me!”

Jared apparently failed to stifle his laughter at that one. “Evan, hate to break it to you, but Connor Murphy’s as omega as they come.”

Evan blinked back at Jared. “H-he is?”

“Oh my _god_.” Jared smacked himself emphatically on the forehead. “You can be such a dumbass sometimes, you know that? I’ll spell it out for you: you are an alpha. You smelled Connor today, yeah?”

Realization hit Evan like a brick because oh. _Oh_. That. Made a lot of sense, actually.

“Evan, what did Connor smell like again?”

“Sex.” Evan responded without thinking and clapped his good hand over his mouth as soon as he’d processed his own words. Jared cackled, clutching his stomach, practically wheezing from laughter.

“This is fucking hilarious! Connor Murphy is an omega and you _want_ him!”

“I-I do not!” Evan tried to defend himself, but it was futile; Jared was going to believe whatever he wanted, and besides, it wasn’t like Evan fully believed himself either. He didn’t want to want Connor like that; Connor was his friend. But the way he’d smelled earlier…musky and wild and radiating heat…it was like it woke up this whole new part of Evan that he’d never felt before, one that was determined and in that moment almost singularly focused on getting close to Connor Murphy.

Good god. He really was an alpha, wasn’t he?

“Okay, Jared,” He sighed in defeat. “I believe you. About me, and Connor too. It just…makes too much sense.”

“Of course it does. When have I ever steered you wrong?” Jared asked haughtily, but was shut down when Evan shot him a look that very clearly said ‘too many times to count’.

“But, even though you’re right, this whole thing still _feels_ so wrong! It’s all mixed up!”

This had Jared looking genuinely perplexed. “How can it be mixed up? Neither of you presented, and now you have. Whoop-dee-fucking-doo. Probably didn’t hurt that you were spending so much time together beforehand too. Like, presenting in tandem is definitely a thing. So I don’t see where you’re getting the ‘mixed up’ part from.”

“B-but that’s exactly it!” Evan cried, seizing Jared by the shoulders. “Whenever we talked about how indeterminate we were, Connor spoke like he knew, just _knew_ he was going to be an alpha! And that he was going to use his status to stand up for the little guy! I c-can’t do anything like that!” he slumped back against the wall in defeat, letting out another shaky sigh. “And C-Connor…he never said it right out, but I think he actively _didn’t_ want to be an omega. I don’t think he even thought of it. It’s all just so, _so_ wrong.”

Jared gave a long sigh. “ _Man_ , Connor has an alpha complex. Almost serves the guy right—”

“Jared!” Evan scolded. “Don’t talk about him like that. He’s been through a lot of alpha related s-stuff, it’s understandable why he’d r-resent them…”

Jared smirked, seeming to come to some conclusion, but whatever it was he didn’t tell Evan. Instead, he conceded, “Fair enough. Well, he’s got a proper shitstorm coming his way if what you said about him wanting to be an alpha so bad is true. Can’t fuck with biology like that, it’ll just fuck with you back.”

“I-I-I g-guess so…” Evan could feel the beginnings of hot tears streaking down his face. He didn’t fully know why, though; it happened sometimes, crying when he got anxious, but usually he could more clearly pinpoint a reason, even if he couldn’t explain it aloud.

Jared put hand on his shoulder again, only this time it was much softer, more sincere. “Hey, calm down yeah? You didn’t pick this, but you’re an alpha, not Connor. And you don’t have to do whatever Connor would’ve done with that, you just have to do whatever _Evan_ would do with that. Got it?” Jared’s eyes bore into Evan’s from behind his glasses, and Evan could only give a sound of blubbery assent.

“Besides, we’re doing it together! Being an alpha isn’t all fun and games, but it’s hardly the shits. You’ll probably start going to health class with me next week, once you’re registered.” And oh, yeah, Evan had forgotten about all that he’d missed having been indeterminate for so long. The idea that he’d be attending a class specifically for _alphas_ , who were people like him…it still wasn’t fully sinking in.

Evan rubbed away some tears with his good arm, and turned to look at Jared again. “Y-yeah, sounds good I guess. I don’t think I’ll really fit in though…”

“Pfff! And you think I do?” Jared asked. “There’s no right way to be an alpha dude. You just gotta show up.”

Evan nodded, and finally found it in himself to stand up, dusting off his knees as Jared followed suit.

“Now can we get out of this closet, please? I’m becoming claustrophobic.” Jared faked a shuddery cough, and Evan couldn’t help but laugh halfheartedly, despite the knots still tied in his stomach at everything that was going on.

They opened the door and emerged back into the artificial lights of the high school hallway. “Thanks for being—” what, a friend? Family friend? Evan never knew how to fit Jared into his life, or whether Jared would ridicule him if he were to get too ‘sappy’ with his words. “well, erm, thanks for being there for me.”

“Car insurance, and don’t you forget it.” Jared replied, but his lips curled up into what appeared to be a genuine smile. Whatever Jared was, Evan decided he was glad to have him around.

They studied for a bit longer before the bell rang, and Evan and Jared had to part ways for their next classes. His mind was still reeling as he walked, repeating in time with his footsteps: _al-pha al-pha al-pha_ …

“Hey, watch it!” a voice called, yanking Evan back to reality, where a guy Evan had seen around—maybe on the football game promotional posters?—looked back at him angrily from where Evan had almost walked straight into him.

Evan was about to cower and slowly back away, his general tactic in this sort of situation, when the guy paused, and his face shifted to something like surprise.

“Hansen,” he started, and wow, Evan hadn’t even known anyone besides the people he was forced to work on projects with knew his name. “You an alpha, bro? I had no idea.” He didn’t smile, exactly, but the cruelty in his face was gone, replaced with something that resembled…respect?

“Y-yeah,” Evan confirmed, silently cursing himself for his stutter, “just presented today actually.”

“Oh. Well shit, dude. Never woulda guessed.” He punched Evan in the arm in a way that Evan assumed was supposed to be friendly in some weird manly way, but it definitely hurt more than the boy probably intended. He rubbed the tender spot, nervous about showing his apparent ‘softness’ in doing so, but the other didn’t even bat an eye as he turned to go, “Take it easy, yeah?”

“Y-you too.” Evan called after him, still rubbing his sore arm as the other alpha turned the corner.

_Wow_. He’d never talked to one of those guys before. They’d never even given him the time of day. And if that had happened a week ago, they’d have almost certainly beaten him to a pulp, or at least given him a hard time for it.

But no. He let him off the hook. He punched him, but not in the scary way, in the peer way? Evan hadn’t had many friends in his time, and the two he’d had never punched him before, so he wasn’t sure how normal that was…but it certainly hadn’t felt hostile. It was as though, just because Evan smelled like an alpha, smelled like an equal, he had somehow changed in these peoples’ eyes.

He smiled a bit to himself. Being an alpha was never something he’d even considered, and he still didn’t know how he felt about it, on the whole. But there was something exciting about this new part of his identity, getting to explore what it might be like to finally be accepted, or at least tolerated.

He couldn’t wait to tell his mom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, the update you've been waiting for! Finally we get to hear from Evan on the other side of their presentation. And our poor boy is dealing with a lot. Jared also gets to shine here, at last, and I'm happy for that; he sure can be a dick, but he's also a whole lot more, and a solid friend when push comes to shove.
> 
> Thank you so, so much for your comments; it makes me so glad to know this story is being read and appreciated!! Seriously, means the world, and it's very encouraging; I love this show and this fandom and am happy to be contributing to it in some way. I look forward to hearing what you think about this chapter, and the next will be out soon enough (though again, I'm back at school now, so it may take some time). Much love, hope you've had a great day!


	10. The one where Connor doesn't Finish Dinner and gets Schooled

“Well isn’t that just great?” Larry exclaimed, and the way he said it made it sound anything but. “Not only is my son a stoner, he’s also a pansy.”

“ _Larry_.” Cynthia scolded, but Connor didn’t miss the concern in her eyes. And Zoe didn’t look at him, wasn’t looking at anyone really. She just messed with the peas on her plate, clearly uncomfortable.

“It isn’t like I _chose_ this, you know.” Connor spat. He was beyond pissed; how could someone be disappointed in him for his fucking biology? Specifically the people who literally pushed him into the world, whether he wanted to be there or not?

But he should’ve anticipated this. Larry in particular was always expecting to be disappointed in him, just waiting for him to fuck up somehow, at least that’s what it felt like. He’d been disappointed back when Connor didn’t show the almost obligatory Murphy family interest in baseball, when he’d started doing drugs, when he wasn’t chasing girls like all his friends—oh wait! He didn’t have any of those anyway! More disappointment. Always such a fucking disappointment...

“Connor, your bread roll!” Cynthia said, and Connor hadn’t realized he’d been squeezing the roll he’d picked up so hard that it had almost entirely crumbled onto his plate. He _hated_ how physical his anger always became. It was like he couldn’t hide, never got room to process his emotions because when he was upset he always looked it. He knew Larry must be feeling smug, knowing that he’d gotten to him in that way.

But Larry wasn’t like him. Larry’s eyes betrayed absolutely nothing as they bore into Connor’s, accusingly.

Maybe he just shouldn’t have told them, should’ve kept his mouth shut about his nature. But that was a hard thing to hide, especially when you lived with someone. His temperature had returned to normal and he felt more like himself after the nurse gave him some scent repressors (she wouldn’t give him heat repressors, though, said he’d have to go through the first one naturally just to ensure that he was healthy, that he was developing normally and wouldn’t require some form of extra medication. And of _course_ that was how it fucking worked).

But he knew he still smelled like an omega, when you paid attention. And his parents, Larry in particular, had been paying attention to this for some time now. So there was no pushing it under the rug. This was one part of his personal business he couldn’t hide from anyone, regardless of how much he might want to.

And it _hurt._ The lack of control. Since he’d presented his body had ceased to feel like his own. Of course he still looked like himself, but even the face in the fucking mirror felt like façade. He had no idea what was going on beneath the surface. It was as though his body had a will of its own; one moment he could be standing per usual, and in the next he’d be burning up, writhing with discomfort without a real understanding of what the hell was happening. And while the meds helped, and would surely continue to help, he already had enough pills on his plate. He didn’t need any more. He’d hated being indeterminate, sure, but being an omega felt more like a newly acquired disease than a nature.

The Murphy table had long since grown silent, save for the light clinking sounds of Cynthia’s and Zoe’s forks on their plates. Larry had stopped eating and so had Connor. The silence was deafening.

He stood up. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Ohh, no, not so fast young man.” Larry stood up too, arms crossed. “You aren’t going anywhere until we decide how we’re going to move forward with this.”

“How _we’re_ going to move forward?!” Connor shouted, incredulous, “It’s _my_ nature, _my_ goddamn problem. There’s no ‘we’ about it.”

“As long as you’re living in _my_ house, this will be a family matter.” Larry said as though it were law. “We can’t have you going out at odd hours of the night anymore, don’t want you getting mauled by some horny alpha.”

“That’s bullshit! I’m on scent repressors!”

“Yes, and we’re going to have to limit your other medications to ensure they do their job properly.” His apparent calmness only served to make Connor angrier. “No son of mine is getting knocked up because of some oversight.”

“You can’t make me stop taking anything! Just because I’m an omega doesn’t all of a sudden make me fragile and irresponsible, and if you think that then you can kiss my—”

“ _That is quite enough_!” Cynthia said, banging a fork on the table to punctuate her words as the two Murphy men turned to her. “Connor, sweetie, I know you need your other meds, so we won’t take you off them unless the doctor says so.”

“Which he won’t! Because I can’t possibly be the first omega to be on other meds. I’m not a _total_ freak show!”

“No one said you were, honey! Now if you’ll just calmly—”

“Don’t tell me to ‘calmly’ anything! I don’t need to take this shit from anyone. I’m going upstairs.”

“C-Connor!” his mom called after him. Zoe remained silent, and if Larry showed anything beyond his usual stoicism, Connor turned around before he could see it.

He ran into his room and slammed the door shut behind him. It wasn’t locked, no, they didn’t have the builders put locks on any of the bedroom doors. No true privacy in the Murphy house. But everyone was so tense and wound up, he couldn’t imagine that anyone would bother coming in to talk with him after that shitshow of a dinner.

He turned on the album that had already queued up in his CD player (The Queen one, the one he’d listened to with Hansen). Connor curled up into a fetal position on his bed and, as Freddie Mercury’s voice once again filled the room, he quietly sobbed.

***

He woke up the next morning feeling…better was the wrong word, but at least more like a human being. Larry had already left for work, Zoe said nothing to him as they got ready, and Cynthia smiled at him like she usually did when she offered breakfast, although it was notably strained. Still, all things considered, the morning went relatively well.

Until he stepped into his third class of the day.

Health classes were required for all students. But they were also nature-specific courses, and Connor, having been indeterminate for so long, had been given an extra free period instead (during which he usually decided to call it quits for the day and heading to the orchard to light up, but that was beside the point).

But no more. He was an omega now, and registered as one with the school for that matter, so there was no avoiding the new, fresh hell that was Omega Health and Wellness.

About twenty heads turned when he entered the room. Most of them were girls, as was to be expected. While male omegas were hardly unheard of, female omegas were the statistical majority. There weren’t many male omegas at their small public high school in the middle of nowhere, and there _definitely_ weren’t any others that looked like Connor.

A hush fell over the room. Surely they’d heard that he’d presented, but brushed it off as rumors. ‘ _Connor Murphy, an omega? Ridiculous’_. But it wasn’t so ridiculous now that he was standing in front of them, was it?

They balked at him, shocked as they were curious. Connor glared back, cold and sharp and _daring_ anyone to say a goddamn _thing_ about him being there. The curiosity in their eyes changed to fear as many of them turned to look back at whatever was on their desks, flustered.

Good. Even as an omega, he hadn’t entirely lost his intimidation factor. He never thought that would be such a relieving, positive thing.

“Ehem,” a teacher at the front of the room cleared her throat, clearly trying to regain attention. Connor turned to see a small, plump woman in a yellow paisley cardigan looking back at him with…he’d expected contempt, that’s how most teachers looked at him, but she was just smiling. _Textbook omega_.

“You must be our new student, Connor Murphy?” she asked, and her voice lilted, almost as though she were singing his name she said it. It weirded Connor out.

“Mm.” He grunted, bouncing anxiously on the balls of his feet. He hated having all this attention on him, wanted to sit down and tune out already.

Her smile widened (as if she were pleased that it was indeed him, as if he could’ve been anyone else? The thought was ridiculous). “Welcome to our class, Connor! I’m Mrs. Feldman. You’re entering in mid-unit, but we’ll have you caught up in no time. You can take a seat in the middle left at that desk right there.”

Middle left? Fucking fantastic. Increased visibility, no ducking into the back of the classroom and fading away as he usually tried to.

With a grumble of assent, Connor begrudgingly made his way to his seat. He dropped his bag so it landed loudly on the floor before plopping into his chair, graceless, as if still challenging anyone to comment on it. The two omega girls sitting on either side of him scooched further away in their seats, eyeing him nervously like they didn’t really know what to do with him. Which was fair enough, because Connor didn’t really know what to do with himself either.

He sniffed the room. He’d never been with so many people of the same nature in a confined space before. The many omega scents intermingled, and he was sure he could’ve picked out individual differences if he’d known anyone in the class and really put his mind to it. But as a collective, the room smelled overwhelmingly like honey and nutmeg and herbs, the saccharine scent permeating everything as though they were in a greenhouse during peak bloom. It was almost hard to breathe it was so sickly-sweet.

But Mrs. Feldman continued on, as though she was somehow both immune to the cloying smell and completely unbothered by Connor’s presence. “Alright! Today we continue our talk on marriage and family life.”

Connor groaned audibly, earning pointed looks from the omega girls flanking him on either side. He couldn’t help himself _._ His first day in health class, already the last place on Earth he wanted to be, and they were on the singular most boring unit. He lived with his mom, a stay at home omega woman like so many others. He knew this shit.

A look around the room said that other students seemed to feel otherwise, however. Most had their heads perked up interestedly, some even looking openly excited at the discussion to come. Connor still wasn’t entirely convinced that this whole ordeal was anything more than a crazy pot nightmare he’d soon wake up from.

“Now the nuclear family traditionally consists of…” Connor rested his chin in his hands, staring vacantly at the board as he let the teacher’s words fade into the background. Tradition this, tradition that. How hierarchical. He got enough of that drivel from Larry.

“—onnor Murphy?” he snapped to attention after several minutes at the sound of his name, Mrs. Feldman looking at him expectantly.

“Can you tell us what the role of an omega is in a nuclear family unit?”

“…what?”

Her eyes narrowed, admonishing him for not paying attention, but she elaborated. “It should be in your textbook readings, I know you may not have gotten a chance to start those yet since you just recently joined us, so it’s okay if you don’t know.”

_Then why did you ask me?_  he wanted to bite back, but he kept his mouth shut.

“The traditional omega role,” she continued, “is that of a lover and a caregiver. The omega is the heart of the household, and they are responsible for managing the space, and the people in it.” _Ugh_. Connor thought he might vomit, it was so trite.

“How do they do that?” an omega boy, one of only two others in the class, piped up. He had hair so blonde it almost looked white, and his eyes were big and curious. Now _he_ looked like he belonged here. The comparison made Connor ever more aware of how he stuck out like a sore thumb, six feet tall with a tattered black hoodie and a semi-permanent scowl.

 “I’m glad you asked, Christopher. First and foremost, the omega fulfills this role by being there for the alpha.” And of _course_ it was going to go in this direction. Connor grit his teeth, looking down at his desk as he tried to maintain composure. “The omega is there to comfort their alpha, to ease their worries. They can calm the alpha with things so simple as well used words, or a gentle pat on the shoulder.” Out of nowhere, the memory of Connor putting his own hand on Hansen’s shoulder, when they ate outside at lunch that day and he was trying to bring him down from his anxious ramblings, appeared in his head. He squeezed his pencil tightly, warmth rising in his cheeks as he quickly willed the image away.

“They can also use their pheromones to calm a raging alpha, especially if the alpha in question is their bondmate. Which brings me to the topic of heats.”

A giggle made its way around the room at the mention of heats. _Since when was this fucking middle school?_ “Now, I know it can be a little funny to talk about, but heats are a crucial part of the omega’s role. By sharing heats, firstly, the alpha and the omega can bond, and this bond is essential for a fulfilling partnership and happy household. The omega needs the alpha in this state, and the alpha is glad to be needed, creating a joyful reciprocity which—”

“What if you don’t want to spend your heat with an alpha?” Connor hadn’t realized that he’d meant to speak ‘til the words were already out of his mouth.

The teacher looked perturbed, whether because she’d been interrupted or she thought poorly on Connor’s question he couldn’t tell. “Well, I suppose that there are toys and other methods of getting oneself through the first few heats if need be. Though not wanting to be with an alpha…I don’t see why that would be the case. _Every_ omega wants to be protected and cared for by an alpha. It’s a part of our nature.”

“But what if I don’t?” he challenged, and the girls near him looked at him like he’d suddenly sprouted wings or a second head. “What if I’d rather die than be rutted against by some horny alpha while I just lay there, completely submissive?”

She pursed her lips tightly, the only sign that what Connor was saying affected her at all. “The relationship between an alpha and omega is mutually beneficial, and I can assure you that you _do_ want it. Connor, I know you may not have chosen to be an omega, but you are one. And the sooner you accept your nature, the sooner—”

“ _Accept_?” He spit out the word, disgusted. “People are always saying I should ‘accept’ their useless crap. Well what if I’m not having it, huh? Have you ever considered that someone might be more than just their nature? Tried to get that one through your thick omega skull?” And suddenly he was standing up, and his voice was raised and everyone was looking at him but he didn’t care, because the blood was roaring in his ears and he could hear his heard pounding in his chest and this was how it had felt, before he almost punched Kleinman, before he threw the printer—

“Get off of me!” he swatted the omega girl next to him away. She had also stood up and tried to put a hand on his shoulder, and wasn’t that just perfect? Maybe it would’ve worked if he were an alpha, but there was no such ‘cure’ for a furious omega, no way to handle people like Connor.

“Now that is quite enough!” Mrs. Feldman spoke sharply. She took a deep breath, gathering herself before she continued. “Mr. Murphy,” and goodness, Connor didn’t know the last time he’d been called that, “if you cannot accept your nature enough to even listen to what I have to teach that is your problem, not mine. And while I am responsible for your learning, I cannot let one student taint the experience for the rest of my class.”

“Oh, so I’m ‘tainting’ the experience by asking questions? By looking for another option besides your alpha hierarchical bullshit?” and he drew out the last word, articulating the ‘t’ with extra spite, the crueler part of him reveling in the way it felt to talk back to anyone who wanted him to just ‘accept’ anything. It was the same fire that burned in him when he talked back to Larry.

“I am not trying to villainize you, Connor. I’m trying to teach you.” _What a load of crap_.

“Well you don’t have to tell me to get out. ‘Cause I’m leaving.”

Mrs. Feldman opened her mouth immediately as though she were about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, and shook her head. “Fair enough. You can come back when you’re ready to learn.”

_Guess I’ll never be seeing you again then,_ he thought to himself, snide, but he didn’t, couldn’t make the words come out. He held eye contact with her for one more moment before grabbing his stuff and leaving the room in a rush.

Connor slammed the door behind him, the last of his anger draining from him as he did, and he found himself standing alone, useless in the hallway. He felt the fury leave him, replaced with heaviness, because he’d only been an omega for two days and he was already so inhumanly tired.

He surprised himself, feeling almost _ashamed_ in that moment for how much he clearly didn’t fit. He wasn’t indeterminate anymore, couldn’t go back to the ambiguity that now seemed like comfort. But like hell was he going back in there, not today and he hoped not ever. But where did that leave him? He tried to shake it off, but he could feel his stomach sinking with the resignation. _Even though you’ve presented, you’re still an outsider. You still don’t belong._

“Fucking hell,” he cursed to himself. He kicked a locker, and his foot numbed, and he wanted the pain to snap him out of it, to give him something else that hurt. But it didn’t change a goddamn thing.

Connor could feel the beginnings of tears pricking at his eyes. _As if things couldn’t get any worse_. Larry’s words echoed in his head, ‘ _He’s also a pansy_ ’. He began to walk quickly, head down, not knowing in particular where he was heading only that he needed to get out, needed to have a smoke or something before he gave into the urge to just collapse on the ground, and he was rearing a corner and nearing the exit when a voice called from behind him.

“Connor!” Footsteps running, frantically trying to catch up with him, and suddenly Hansen was there, breathing a bit hard, eyebrows creased with worry. “Where have you been, I-I haven’t s-seen or heard from you at all since—”

“Leave me the fuck alone!” Connor snarled. Hansen jumped back, seeming frightened, and Connor supposed he probably _was_ frightened. Because Hansen was always skittish, part of him always waiting to be yelled at, and who in god’s name decided that _Hansen_ of all people would make a better alpha than Connor anyway?

“Connor, I—”

“Don’t say my name like that!” He snapped, sounding harsh even for him and Hansen looked _hurt_ again, and it caused something to ache inside him. He turned his head away. “As you can see, I’m leaving. So get the hell away and let me leave.”

“I-If it’s about being an omega, I want you to know that I—”

“I don’t want to hear you talk to _me_ about being an omega.” He cut him off. It was painful to turn on Hansen of all people, the only one it seemed who’d ever given him a real chance to be something. But the pain almost felt good, like twisting a knife in his own stomach, sourly satisfying. At least he had control over something. “You have no goddamn right. You don’t—you have no idea what this has been like for me.”

“But I want to know!” Evan blurted, his face blotchy and his hands in fists, and Connor watched the cast with his scrawled name on it flail back and forth, a result of Hansen’s emotional outpouring. “I w-want to understand! If you’ll just talk to me I promise—”

“Your promises don’t mean shit, Hansen.” Connor walked right up to him, towering over him when they were so close and wasn’t that rich? The omega glaring down at the quivering alpha. His whole life was a punchline to some cruel joke. “You’re an alpha now, and I’m an omega, and it’s not gonna work, ok? I’m not going to let any alpha have a say in how I live my life. So you can take that knot of yours and shove it up your own ass.”

Hansen didn’t say anything, only looked back up at him, wounded and confused and Connor could smell him, they were standing so close. The scent wasn’t as strong as before, but it was still there: the smell of trees, of fresh air and intoxication. A significant part of him, a part he _loathed_ in that moment, was so tempted to lean into it, to let it wash over him and to shed his anxieties, to let Hansen hold him and tell him it would be okay…

And wasn’t that just absolutely terrifying?

“I’m going.” he said decisively, and quickly turned heel. Hansen cried after him, but Connor didn’t, couldn’t make out the words, his mind swimming in anger and frustration and that damn smell. He sped up until Hansen and the school were both far behind him and hopped into his jeep.

Connor’s hands shook as he put the key in ignition, the rumble of the Jeep that was usually so predictable now startling and foreign.

His head was still spinning as he drove away. He had never felt so helpless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! So sorry the update has taken so long-I'm writing so much for school that it take away from the time I'd usually spend writing for pleasure. But still the story presses on, and I have every intention of continuing with it, so thanks for coming with me on this ride!!
> 
> Poor Connor :(. This boy basically lives in italics, I had such a hard time not italicizing too much when writing him, he's so emotional and emphatic in his experiences. I hope you've enjoyed his perspective, and don't worry, he and Evan will find their way back to one another soon enough!
> 
> If you liked this, and/or have any thoughts or suggestions or reactions, please leave a comment! I love to read them, it's so energizing. If you're reading this, I hope you're doing well, and that you've had a great day <3\. 'Til next time!


	11. The one with Wet Dreams and Jared's Input

As a person with intense anxiety, Evan had always been prone to thinking up ludicrous scenarios, detailing how things could possibly go wrong in any given situation. Seventeen years of experience had made this into an artform of his; he was a master at effortlessly envisioning how his life could be ruined at any given turn.

But in all of his craziest imaginings, he’d never envisioned himself being straddled by Connor Murphy.

He didn’t know how they got on his bed, only that Connor’s hands were like sin. They roamed up and down his chest slowly, moving beneath his shirt to get a better feel for each detail, every dip and curve of his skin. One of Connor’s hands (warm, calloused) tweaked his nipple and Evan groaned, leaning up to meet the boy in a heated kiss. Evan’s lips were daring, pressing against Connor’s with uncharacteristic confidence, and the beautiful boy hummed softly in reply, returning his kiss with equal fervor.

Decisively, he anchored his hands on Connor’s shoulders and bucked upwards mid-kiss. Connor keened at the contact, his head falling backwards and providing the perfect access for Evan to start pressing gentle kisses down his neck, which he did gratefully. Connor tasted just like he smelled, musky and sweet, and Evan found he couldn’t get enough. When his lips met Connor’s scent gland he lingered for a moment, nuzzling and kissing it long and slow as he made their scents intermingle.

“E-Evan…” Connor exhaled his name in a shaky breath and the sound went straight to Evan’s cock.

“ _Mine_.” He replied, possessive and insistent, moving then to press harder kisses on the omega’s neck, ones that would bruise, show the whole world that they belonged to each other—

Evan Hansen sat up as he awoke, breathing ragged and heart beating fast. He was immediately aware of a sticky feeling in his pants.

“ _Uuuugh_ ,” He groaned, flopping back on the bed in defeat. He’d been waking up from dreams like that, either sticky or with an unmistakable hard-on, for the past week. And while the dreams varied in their intensity (most were just kissing and petting; dream Connor had never straddled him like that before), they all had the common thread of him and Connor doing…things, together. And enjoying it very much, if Evan’s reactions upon waking up were anything to go by.

Was this what being an alpha was supposed to feel like? Being consumed by feelings of want, often at the most inconvenient times? Jared had said he’d become hornier since presenting, but it never sounded anything like this.

He’d also never thought about _guys_ like that before. Granted, he hadn’t really thought about anyone before, save for maybe Zoe Murphy (and wasn’t that a disturbing trend? He could hear Jared laughing in his mind, calling him out on the ‘Murphy kink’ that he _definitely didn’t have_ ). But even then, his thoughts about her weren’t so sexual as they were adoring. He supposed, therefore, that dreaming about Connor, who was very much a boy, wasn’t really a step outside of his norm, since he really didn’t have a norm to begin with. Not much time to think about being sexual with other people when you’re too busy being anxious about even interacting with them.

Still. Evan had only been an alpha for just over a week and he wasn’t sure how much more of this whole thing he could take. He’d never liked bodily fluids to begin with, but they’d become such a part of his daily routine that he was having to adapt and, well. Of all the problems he had, he never thought that this one in particular would come to pass.

Sadness fell over him as he grew more awake and aware, the same realization dawning on him each morning as he returned to reality. Beyond the simple fact that the dreams were as distracting as they were relentless, the truth remained that they were about as distant as possible from what was really going on. Not only was Connor Murphy distinctly not in his bed, kissing him senseless ( _unfortunately_ , a troublesome part of his brain chimed in, but he shooed it away), Evan was pretty sure that Connor hated him. Or hated that he was an alpha. But Evan wouldn’t be surprised if the two were so invariably intertwined in Connor’s mind that he just hated him doubly as a result.

The thought made Evan’s heart ache, like he could _feel_ it breaking in his chest. When Connor looked at him in the hallway the last time they’d seen each other, his glare had been so full of malice, his words so spiteful, that Evan was left with no doubt as to how the other boy felt about their current situation.

At least he knew where the other stood? But try as he might, he couldn’t convince himself that was worth anything. It seemed that having a friend and then losing him was far worse than never having any friends to begin with.

Connor definitely hated him, and for once, he didn’t think he’d really done much of anything to warrant it (unless he hated him just for existing, and while not entirely improbable, they did exchange phone numbers and talk about their aspirations and stare into each other’s eyes, so he certainly hoped that it hadn’t all been an elaborate ruse).

What was worse, Evan _really_ didn’t hate Connor. He was a bit scared of him, sure, definitely intimidated, but Connor was the only one besides his mom who really cared to know him. Connor saw something beyond his goofy demeanor and his stutter and his sweaty palms. And Evan himself didn’t know what there was beyond that, exactly, he couldn’t put words to it. But whatever it was, Connor was looking at it. Connor was looking at _him_.

The thought made Evan tingle a bit with excitement. The idea of being wanted and appreciated by anyone beyond obligation (so no, his mom and even Jared didn’t really count) was appealing, and he yearned for it at a very basic level. He hadn’t had time to get used to the feeling of being valid and cared about like that before it was gone, stolen away with his indeterminate status the moment he presented.

_It’s all so unfair_. He balled his hands into fists, fingernails digging into his palms in hopes of damming the tears that threatened to pour over. _If Connor were the alpha and I were the omega, everything would be fine, none of this would be happening_.

“Evan, honey! You have school today yeah?” his mom’s voice called from down the hall, snapping him out of _that_ trainwreck of a thought process. It took him a second to remember that oh, she was taking the morning off today.

“Yeah, I’m c-coming!” he replied. It was startling, hearing her voice in the house, which was strange because it was _her_ house, but it really felt like Evan’s. Like it was Evan’s house and his mom only visited sometimes, mostly just to sleep over. He tried not to let the weirdness of her being around get to him, tried instead to be grateful for the time he did have with her, because of course he loved her, but it was difficult. He spent so much time alone, it was no wonder he was so bad at talking to other people.

“And how’s my man this morning?” she asked, flashing a dimply smile at him as he entered the kitchen. She never used to call him that before, ‘my man’. Before he presented, it was always ‘my little guy’. It wasn’t like Evan minded much, it was almost a negligible difference, really, but he definitely noticed. Just like he noticed how she was buying more protein and fewer sweets. She’d even bought a blender using part of her most recent paycheck, which was no small thing. It was ostensibly for shakes and health foods, because ‘It’ll help you get those big bones nice and strong!’.

“You’re looking a lot better with both arms, honey.” She remarked, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Must be nice to have that mobility back, huh?”

“Y-yeah, for sure.” Evan said, attempting a smile in return. But he couldn’t shake the thought that he’d give most anything to go back to before his cast had come off. Because losing the cast was losing Connor’s name on his arm, one of the last remaining pieces of proof he had that the other boy was even a part of his life to begin with.

“You have lunch packed away?”

“Mmhmm.” He affirmed, but it was a lie. He’d been especially anxious as of late, and he didn’t eat much when he was like this. So he just packed a granola bar for lunch. But he knew that if he tried to explain this to his mom, then she’d put effort into making him something hearty, something to prove that she was there for him, and he wouldn’t even end up eating it unless he felt so guilty for rejecting it that he had to, and then his stomach would hurt for the rest of the day and—yeah, that wouldn’t be the best situation.

Evan was a surprisingly good liar. When he lied, he got all stutter-y and sweaty. But he was like that enough anyway that people rarely noticed a difference or attempted to call him out on it.

He was also pretty good at lying to himself. Like when he convinced himself that falling out of the tree in Ellison Park was a mistake and not a deliberate choice.

…And that was _not_ a mental road he needed to travel down now. He shook his head, trying to rid himself of those thoughts. “Well nice to see you mom but I’mgonnagotoschoolnowbye.” his words ran together as he rushed to give her a hug before grabbing his bag.

“Have such a good day! My little alpha, taking on the world!” she called after him, and her words _stung_. Somehow his mom’s enthusiasm around his alpha status made everything even worse, though he knew it was well intended. Because he could imagine that, on the other end, Connor’s family (especially his dad, he reasoned, though he’d never met the infamous Larry himself) was not giving him the same enthusiasm, or even acceptance. And why did Evan deserve this, anyway? Why was being an alpha such an inherent boon when he’d literally done nothing at all to ‘earn’ it? His mom’s unwarranted joy, the extra light in her eyes when she looked at him, the fact that she thought this suddenly meant he had a future or something and that things would be alright…

It was stupid. He wasn’t suddenly fine just because he had this nature. He wasn’t suddenly fine because he had a nature at all. He was most fine when he was, well. When he was with Connor.

He tried to bring this up with Jared later, before health class started. He’d been attending Alpha Health and Wellness for a few sessions at this point, and so far so good, he supposed, but the best part of the class was definitely getting to sit next to Jared. Having someone to sit next to at the start of class was such a help to his social anxiety it was unreal; he knew which chair to go to and he always had a discussion partner. And of course people weren’t exactly scrambling to sit next to Jared, either, so he supposed it might even be mutually beneficial, though Jared himself would never say so.

“Connor Murphy _still_ hasn’t talked to you?” Jared asked, shocked. “I was sure he’d have had your dick in his mouth by now.”

“Oh my— _J-Jared_!” Evan squeaked, face burning bright red at the frankly unneeded and highly unhelpful image of Connor on his knees. “That’s n-n-not appropriate!” he looked quickly around the room, but no one was paying them any mind, thank god. The alpha class was very clique-y, with the big cohort of sporty guys taking up most of the midsection and the rest of them flaring out to the sides. Zoe Murphy and the smaller section of female alphas sat just a few rows away from Evan and Jared, but thankfully she seemed to be fully engrossed in a conversation, completely missing Jared’s lewd comment about her estranged brother.

Jared shrugged, clearly unconcerned with appropriateness and thriving on Evan’s reactions. “I just speak the truth. Anyway, what gives with that? If you say you’re really happiest when you’re with him, why don’t you go up and tell him so?” Evan stared blankly back, and Jared’s eyes widened.

“Oooh yeah, forgot, that whole anxiety thing’s a bitch. Gotcha. No bueno. Need a new plan.”

“I-it’s not that…” Evan sighed, “He doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

“How do you know he doesn’t want anything to do with you if he hasn’t talked to you?” Jared pressed. “Seriously, Ev. You guys were like, friends, and lord knows how that happened, but it did. He can’t really hate you—”

“You don’t get it! He hates what I’ve become!” Jared quirked a brow at this, clearly trying (and failing) to stifle a chuckle. “I’m serious!”

“Oh, I know you’re serious. Serious in the same way an emo 7th grader’s serious while he’s blaring Fall Out Boy, blocking out the parents who ‘hate what he’s become’.”

“That…is really specific.”

“I’m an on point kinda guy.” Jared shrugged. “And you’re obsessing about something that’s not so severe. Okay. So say he is really mad about the whole Evan’s-an-alpha thing. But you’re nature’s not gonna change! Sooner or later, he’ll get over it.” He crossed his arms, leaned back in his chair, and that’s all Evan needed to know that Jared had effectively made up his mind about how this was going to play out.

 “I guess he might…but what if he doesn’t?”

“Evan, you just hit upon the most generic and hard to answer question in the universe.” Jared deadpanned. “How am I supposed to know how your romantic affair with Murphy’s gonna play out? I don’t. But I can say that if he keeps on with this alpha grudge so much that it leaves even you hanging, he’s gonna have a hard time making any friends, like, ever.”

“Alright, people! Let’s get started!” The teacher, Mr. Pell, shouted, bringing everyone to attention. He was a beefy guy, former military, and reeked (both literally and figuratively) of alpha-ness. When he first met Evan he squinted down at him, appearing to try and size him up, which of course made Evan start to shake and sweat. Evan clearly ‘passed’ whatever test he was being given, namely by being an alpha, he figured, but Mr. Pell still intimidated the bejeezus out of him. Fortunately, Mr. Pell didn’t seem too interested in him anymore, allowing Evan to fade into the background without worrying much about being called on.

“Today we’re going to talk about knotting.”

“Time to get ‘knotty’.” Jared whispered, waggling his eyebrows at Evan, who elbowed him in the side.

“Knots are a crucial part of what makes alpha anatomy different than that of those with other natures. It manifests in different ways depending on gender…” and Evan was drifting. He didn’t like not focusing, he wanted to learn and at least try to be a good student. But he was so preoccupied with what Jared was saying; despite all appearances, Connor Murphy could very well not hate him. Was he thinking about Evan as much as Evan was about him? He didn’t dare to hope…but Jared had been right to say that he and Connor did have something. A friendship? Evan had thought so. But he wasn’t sure anymore.

He took out his phone under his desk, holding it with trembling hands (he had never been calm and cool with breaking rules, even small ones). He glanced quickly upwards—Mr. Pell seemed to be describing the process of working up a knot, and the alphas in the center of the room mimicked him with some particularly lewd hand gestures—and, figuring he was in the clear, tapped on the name that had refused to leave him alone.

Connor’s and his message thread lit up below him. But one wouldn’t be able to tell that it was a conversation thread; all the text boxes were blue.

**Evan:** Hey I’m sorry about earlier I shouldn’t have bothered you

**Evan:** It’s just cause like I care a lot you know you’re my friend and it’s weird not talking and I wish we were talking

**Evan:** Or even that you could send me some sort of signal that you’re ok? At least?? I don’t know how your family is doing or how you are or anything at all I just know you’re mad at me even though I didn’t really do anything wrong at least I don’t think I did?

**Evan:** And if I did then you should really let me know that too so I can say sorry and fix whatever it was because that’s what friends do

**Evan:** At least I think that’s what they do? You’re my first real friend I think (Jared is a family friend it’s different)

**Evan:** Wow. That was so lame. I’m sorry.

**Evan:** Also I’m rambling and it really looks like I’m just talking to myself and that’s just silly isn’t it? But it’s definitely your phone that I’m texting. It’s like your phone is just the void??

**Evan:** Sorry for calling your phone the void

**Evan:** I miss you

He gave a shaky sigh squeezing the phone tightly. He couldn’t say how many times he’d scrolled through that same conversation thread after Connor told him in the hallway that he was going, cutting off communication entirely. Each time he looked at it, he expected it to make him feel better. But it only served as a consistent reminder of the fact that Connor wasn’t there, wanted nothing to do with him. He didn’t even know if the other was okay.

“Dude,” Jared hissed next to him. Evan scrambled to return his phone to his pocket. “We’re getting to the good part.”

Embarrassed at having been caught (though Pell still wasn’t looking in his direction, thank god, being inveterately invisible had its occasional perks), Evan quickly turned his attention up to the board where, based on the amount of writing that hadn’t been there before, it seemed he’d missed a fair bit.

“—And at this point, the knot is firmly inserted inside the partner, and cannot be removed for the duration of release.”

“Wait…” Evan said, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion. He must’ve said it louder than he meant to, though, because Mr. Pell’s gaze came to meet his.

“Exactly. You have to wait until the knot comes down for separation. Unless that was a question, Evan?” He said it in a way that implied he _really_ hoped it wasn’t a question.

“I-I d-don’t?” he babbled, hating the attention on him, but even moreso perplexed. He’d done a lot of googling about alpha anatomy (though much of what he found took place in some rather crass online forums, and he always closed those tabs very quickly), and had seen some stuff about knots, but nothing had come up about any sort of removal process. “I-I’m not s-sure—”

“If you’ve got a question spit it out, Evan. I didn’t schedule meaningless blathering into my schedule today.”

Looking away from Mr. Pell ashamed, Evan had the misfortune of catching Zoe Murphy’s eyes from a few seats away. She looked at him confusedly, too, and oh goodness he must really be making no sense at all and he could feel the sweat forming on his palms and he needed to say something, anything—

“I’mjustnotsureifIfollowsorry!” He blurted. Mr. Pell looked like he wanted to smack himself in the face. Evan couldn’t blame him.

“Well if you had been listening,” he started, and Evan just about capsized right there because that was a callout if he’d ever heard one. Mr. Pell must’ve seen him playing on his phone and only now decided to care. “You’d understand that the alpha and omega are locked together once the knot has entered and stay like that until the alpha has completed release and is ready to pull out.”

“So, the omega, does he—o-or she!—get any s-say?” Evan asked, and he was pretty sure his voice had raised about an octave by the end of the question, but he had to ask. He certainly wasn’t going to find anything helpful in a way that wasn’t mostly if not entirely pornographic in the online alpha forums.

A couple of boys snickered in the front. Mr. Pell raised a brow at him, clearly as confused as he was exasperated. Evan’s cheeks flared and he sunk lower in his chair, some irrational part hoping that maybe he’d eventually be low enough that he’d phase through the floor and out of the room.

“Of course not. It’s the alpha’s release, so therefore the alpha is in control.” Evan could clearly hear the implied ‘ _obviously’_ at the end.

“But doesn’t that seem kind of…?” Evan started, and he was a total idiot because now half the class was looking at him and Mr. Pell was waiting for him to finish his sentence. He gulped, fiddling with the hem of his polo. “Isn’t it a little s-sexist? You know?”

He searched the room for supportive looks, but found none. Some of the boys in the center cracked up laughing. Jared looked positively mortified on his behalf. Zoe gazed at him, cool but thoughtful.

Mr. Pell shook his head. “It’s not sexism, Hansen, it’s biology. You’ve got a knot and the omega doesn’t and that’s how it works, capiche? None of this weird ‘politically correct’ business in my classroom, now. We only deal with facts here.”

Evan heard a couple more sniggers from the front of the room. He looked down, now wringing his hands in his shirt. “O-okay. Sorry about that.”

Mr. Pell didn’t deign his apology with a response and continued the lesson, but Evan couldn’t bring himself to even fake focus. They said it was biology, and he got that, but it still seemed a bit wrong to Evan. Was the alpha body seriously created with intention to impair an omega’s free will like the class was implying, or were they just learning to act that way?

Regardless, it made a lot more sense why Connor was so up in arms and angry about the situation; even if Evan thought being an omega might be easier for him than the almost alternate universe experience that was being an alpha, he didn’t think he’d appreciate being told he was forced to stay still on someone else’s knot. Connor had so much pride, Evan figured even the thought of being subjugated to an alpha’s will like that would cause him to blow up.. _No wonder he hates me now…_

Thoughts about alphas and knots and Connor (mostly Connor, if he was being honest) swam around in his head until the bell rang. Evan picked up his books and hurried out of the classroom, not wanting to engage in the inevitable conversation with Jared about ‘what the hell he was saying’ in class today. It wasn’t that he thought he could avoid that discussion altogether; Jared had looked so taken aback by his words (which surprised Evan; was asking questions about how omegas feel and experience things really so rare in an alpha class when that’s the nature most alphas are intent on pursuing?), he was sure they’d get around to talking about it at some point.

But the alpha classroom had reeked so intensely of dominant pheromones, as though all of them were trying simultaneously put their mark on the shared space. Even beneath the shared laughs and jabs there was a competitive edge, a sharpness to each interaction. Evan had never been even remotely competitive; the last competition he’d willingly taken part in being a mini marathon in elementary school (he’d come in 32nd place, and when his mom had asked why he wasn’t upset, he’d explained that he looking for four leaf clovers and had forgotten to run until he saw the same group of boys he’d started with lap him on the track). To be surrounded by that much energy, especially the bravado and puffed chests put forth by most of the male alphas, and even some of the females, it was overstimulating and exhausting.

As he scurried down the hallway, another scent hit him like a wall, instantly erasing the memory of alpha machisimo. Evan stopped still and drank in the smell, which sent fire to his limbs and a tingle down his spine, as though someone had suddenly flipped an ‘on’ switch inside of him.

A look down the hall made it clear why. Turning the corner was Connor Murphy, also in a hurry. Connor was dehydrated (Evan didn’t know how he knew that, how he could _possibly_ know that about Connor, but he was utterly, instinctually convinced it was so) and his hands trembled almost imperceptibly as he strode purposefully forward.

Evan stared at him, couldn’t help staring at him, the smell becoming more potent as it crowded him from all angles, impossible to escape. Connor, predictably, noticed him staring, and to Evan’s surprise faltered only for a moment in his step before continuing his directed walk. And Evan was tempted to let him go, to give him the space he seemed to want, to wait for him to come around to Evan on his own time so that Evan would know it was for real, that he didn’t feel taken advantage of…

But there was something wrong, Evan’s hindbrain was screaming at him. Or at least something was unusual. Connor’s scent was surely enticing, but it shouldn’t be so cloying, so permeating if he was on repressors. Evan was sure he must’ve been since the day after he presented (because, surely, if Connor hadn’t been on repressors Evan would have gone delusional with want whenever he so much as walked where the other had recently been each day at school).

“ _Connor_!” He called out. His voice resonated with such force, and he had no idea why he’d said anything at all only that he _had_ to because Connor had to _know_ , “ _you’re going into heat soon_!”

Connor stopped short the moment Evan called his name, much like the time that Evan stopped Jared from jumping him in the hallway. Only this time Connor’s eyes went wide, filled with so much blatant fear at Evan’s words. Connor winced, as though he were in pain, and Evan didn’t have time to so much as take a step before the other turned heel, walking as fast as he could away from Evan without breaking into a full run.

The scent of impending heat lingered, Evan could taste it in the air. He wasn’t sure if Connor didn’t know or if he didn’t _want_ to know what was coming. He was deeply torn: should he elbow his way into things and try to help Connor, the way his instincts were insisting only he could (and damn, had his instincts become so much more relevant in the past week than they ever had been prior)? Or should he leave it to Connor, let him figure his way through this on his own, trusting that he’d come around to Evan eventually…?

However he approached the situation, one thing was for certain: if Evan felt this at a loss regarding the idea of Connor going into heat, Connor himself must feel about ten times moreso. He only hoped that the other boy would make it through alright—he’d heard that first heats for an omega could be especially challenging.

_Who knows? Maybe he’ll be thinking of you_ , his brain added chirpily. Evan did his best to ignore the thought, and failed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whee! A long chapter for you all, since there was no logical place to divide it up. Some fun facts:
> 
> 1\. Evan, in my mind, is very much bi, and his feelings for Zoe were definitely real, just not powered by the same instinctual drive as his feelings for Connor currently are. He may not apply a word/label to this, but that's where my headcanon of Evan lies. (and, tangentially, Connor is gay as a rainbow, though he doesn't realize this yet and would be strained to admit it).
> 
> 2\. I came in 32nd in a mini-marathon, like Evan. Unlike Evan, I didn't get distracted by clovers; I was just really, really bad.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed this chapter, as it was a really fun one to write! Next chapter is tough, as it features Connor's first heat. So we'll see how that plays out.
> 
> Comments and kudos are not only welcomed but appreciated :). Let me know what you like and what you'd like to see more of! Have a great day! <3


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